


Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever..... Some Supernatural Sons of Bitches

by PJMarshall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 43,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJMarshall/pseuds/PJMarshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is Soulless,<br/>Dean feels confused and hopeless<br/>and Gemini is in deep doo doo.<br/>Things aren't so bonnie in Scotland.<br/>Can the Winchesters save the day when Gemini's past comes back to bite her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ae Fond Kiss and them We sever some Supernatural Sons of Bitches Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 3rd instalment of the 'Vessels of Intent' series first posted between late 2013 and then redrafted and posted in completion mid 2014. It was never intended to be written as a third part but after one of many rewatch marathons the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I'd been to my first US convention and had the post con blues so I thought stuff it, if I can't go back to the US to another con I'll bring the Winchesters to me and Weekend at Bobby's made it plot related possible. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading if you do. Comments much appreciated. I always wondered How the Lamia made it out of Greece; it was never explained so hopefully this plausibly joins the dots even though technically it has never been stated so on the show. All music cited as usual on You Tube. As is Tam O' Shanter by Robert Burns which along with Katy Perry's Dark Horse (which is not mentioned in the story inspired part of the new mythology some of which was created specific for the story some adapted from lore and local stories and history. In real life Aird Kirk is Inch Church and it is still standing but the history is local lore. I decided to class a year later as 2011. In the Veritas episode in season 6 a character's calendar still states 2010 which as far as I could figure was less than a year since Sam went to hell. I couldn't get any answer from those in the know so hedged my bets and set season 6 in 2011.

The waters had risen deceptively quickly as Sam dug his way intently, through the sodden, rotten, debris that remained of 'The Martha'. He had ignored their incessant lapping when they had first began to filter through the rocks of the centuries sealed cave mouth. Theirs the only other outside element to breech this rock vault in centuries, until today. 

Sam's foreign presence had been a disturbance to the routine of this ice cold, salty, liquid swell that it soon adjusted to as it began to claim his form as it had every other object in this cavernous trove. 

Sam should have also felt a similar disturbance around his person as the freezing waters seeped through the mesh of his tennis shoes, a pair he had gotten many years ago to replace an identical brown set; one of which disappeared down a drain mouth on what could only be described as not one of Sam's better days. 

Even as the swell rose inch by inch up his calf muscles and then his thighs; weighing heavy on his denim clad legs. Sam dug on; sure the sword was his to find. Not even a flicker of panic interrupted the steady 'dum dum' rhythm of his methodically functioning heart.  
\---------------------- 

Ae Fond Kiss, And then we sever.... some supernatural sons of bitches 

By PJ Marshall 

 

Prologue

 

May 2010

Gemini places the ear buds of her headphones in her ears. She dials up Chicane's 'Saltwater' on her I-pod and sets it on repeat and pause. Strapping the jogger friendly contraption it was attached to around her bicep, she puts her hand above her eyes in a sailor's salute as she takes in her surroundings, from her vantage point high on the Galloway hillside. The never easing wind whipping her hair around her face, the high sun searing her eyes.

If she blinked Gemini could imagine what she should see from here on the 'Gallow Hill'. The brilliant emerald glow of the rural landscape descending toward the ferry town of Stranraer. It's industrial estate, the cheese factory, housing schemes and neighbourhoods. The large secondary school to the east of town and The shimmering glory of Loch Ryan; the beating heart of Stranraer's employment and ferry industry. It's majestic watery expanse flowing and bending around the rural shore lines of hills, farmland and tiny villages on it's way out to meet it's mistress; the Irish Sea. 

At the town's heart a predominant mix of Victorian and twentieth century buildings that make up what locals referred to as 'the Toon Centre ' which was starting to look a bit sparse of economic cheer in these tough times; as one by one staples of Stranraer's high street had began to disappear. Staples like Woolworths, who's former shell, now possessed by another 'Everything a £1' shop, sat adjacent to the historic and literal heart of Stranraer. The 'Castle Green' and the medieval tower house known as the 'Castle of St John'.

What Gemini did see when she looked down towards the shore, through her monocular telescope; was history clashing. The shore line filled to capacity with resurfaced ship and military wrecks from bygone era's as the brine preserved dead scrambled ashore. 

For while the loch's curve and a strong northern wind had once deterred John Paul Jones from his plans to attack local merchant ships. Through out the centuries many a vessel and obsolete military craft had not been so lucky to escape. Even out into the Irish sea became a dumping ground for munitions and scuttled captured German U Boats. One of which is rumoured to have been lost under tow at the loch's mouth.

Scanning further in land Gemini witnessed the on shore dead rising too. As they clawed their way out of every one of the local kirk yards and cemeteries dragging their zombiefied selves, in a parade through town, turning 'toon' folk and leaving a path of destruction in 

their wake. As they seethed like a mass of ants towards her 'birds eye' view on the 'Gallow Hill'. 

The 'Gallow Hill' was named after it's former role as a location for criminal hangings and the gallows victims had began to materialize too. Rising out of their hillside graves. Leading the charge that was swarming toward Gemini.

“ You ready?” Gemini enquired of Scathach and Aife who were flanking her on either side. Turning to look behind, Scathach gave the signal to their 600 strong army. The army of 'Warrior Weans'.

The warriors changed formation, forming an outward facing circle. Weapons at the ready as the un-dead approached from every direction now; from every nook and village not just Stranraer. 

The 'Warrior Weans' were a genetically superior army, a mythically powerful breed of brothers, sisters and cousins in full grown adult form; although some of them were as young as three years old in human chronology. 

These children were masters of the ancient arts of combat who stood a good two feet taller than most of their mortal fathers. They were the offspring of Scathach and Aife and the human males of superior warrior skills they had mated with through Gemini; their human vessel.

Out in front of the circle, on the side that faced away from Stranraer towards Portpatrick, stood the ranks commanding chiefs; Alexander and Morna.

Alexander and Morna were cousins maternally; paternally siblings. The son and daughter of Dean Winchester. Just like the rest of the child warriors they knew nothing of their father and he knew nothing of them. 

Although referred to as the 'Wean Warriors' (child warriors).They never really were children, except physically for a month after their births in late 2007.

Gemini took the bobble from around her wrist and scraped her hair back tight, tying it in a bun at the back of her head, she was getting into 'fight' mode; nothing would be permitted to get in her way. She wore her usual uniform of bare feet, black vest and leggings. The long pockets around her legs and body armed to the teeth with spears of all shapes and sizes; Salt tipped. As was the new addition to her armoury, the huge silver sword she carried across her back; a beast of a weapon that would have made even Lion-O proudly yell 'H-oooooooo!' Gemini reassuringly gripped it's handle over her shoulder. She was ready.

Scathach looked down and smiled at Gemini. Tiny in comparison to the rest of the army but fierce as any blood born warrior.

“Ye think yer nae sma chicken wi that beast O' a thing.” Scathach said ,looking down from her great height, Aife smiled down too. Gemini grinned up at them defiantly.

 

“Wi' or withoot it , sisters, I'm nae sma' chick......”

Scathach and Aife looked at each other, rolling their eyes in mock sarcasm. Their knowing smiles telling. Even in her joking way Gemini spoke the real truth. They knew how hard she had fought to get here. Gemini had herself started out as a 'wean warrior' but that's a story written in another volume of history's pages.

“Shall we get this show on the road, then?” Gemini asked; her fight face firmly in place as the supernatural enemy grew ever closer.

“ Aye.” said the warrior goddesses in unison.

“Let's kick some un-dead arse !!” Gemini shouts. As she flicks her I-pod to play. She hears Scathach yell the command to action as the beats and Clannad sample vocal from 'The theme from Harry's Game', begins to ascend taking her warrior's spirit with it as she sets off at a run, her face determined. 

Grabbing a silver tipped spear in each hand from her thigh pockets. Gemini leaps into the air and flips forward; using the downward drive of her spinning body as the leverage to embed the spears into the skulls of two imminent attacking zombies. Yanking them back out as the bodies crumple and her feet hit the ground; her stride never missing a beat. 

She is turbo charged like Chung -Li when you randomly pressed all the controller buttons during an epic battle of 'Street Fighter'. Pulling moves that the methodical gamer could never dream of.  
________________________

 

Meanwhile across the Atlantic, Sam and Dean Winchester were facing some Apocalyptic problems of their own. Sam had been taken over by Lucifer and Dean was ploughing in the Impala towards a graveyard on the outskirts of the town where their story began. Lawrence, Kansas.

The place Chuck has told him the 'Lucifer V Michael', title fight was going down at high noon. Sam may not be able to fight against Lucifer's possession but Dean, sure as hell wasn't going to let his brother go through this epic end times battle alone.

_____________________________________________________________

 

1

 

Mid-July 2011  
The Old Aird Kirk just off the A75,  
between Stranraer and Castle Kennedy

 

It was 3.30pm on the last Friday before the 'Glasgow Fair' fortnight started. Which for some reason marked the beginning of the summer holidays for local tradesmen in Dumfries and Galloway. Even though Glasgow was almost two hours up country from the regions most northern town, Stranraer. 

Site foreman Johnnie Fitzgerald was the last man left standing at what was now the hollowed out shell of the old Aird Kirk. This second incarnation of the centuries old building had been built in the late 1800's after a fire destroyed the original. Rumours down through history had described the fire an 'act of God'. It was said that the Reverend had banned singing from service and the congregation had sang in spite of his advices; causing the original kirk to be struck by lighting and burned to the ground. 

Any supernatural protection mojo this second version of the kirk had, seemed to have disappeared long ago as attendance at the church had been in slow decline since the 90's .

When two of the three remaining elderly worshippers slipped off the mortal coil during the winter; within a week of each other. Once Reverend McKay had seen them off into 'the arms of the Lord' to the strains of 'Abide with me'. He decided (or the church board and the local lord decided for him) It was time to shut up shop.

Within a month Lord and Lady Aird had the land flogged off to the first 'pub grub' chain with the biggest bid and a love of making restaurants out of redundant churches. Old Betty, the only remaining attendant; was now (to the cost of the public pot) taxied every Sunday to the High Kirk in Stranraer and Johnnie and the boys were ferried in to start the renovation. 

Some of them quiet literally as building contracts had become pretty cut throat in these times of recession and big businesses were notorious for bringing workers with cheaper bids from Northern Ireland.

Johnnie gave an absent minded wave as the last of his crew jumped into the beat up old mini bus and they drove off; heading for the ferry port in Stranraer. He was catching a later ferry so was in no rush to leave. He didn't exactly have much to rush back to Antrim for.

Johnnie, was a 56 year-old bachelor with nothing but a long two weeks ahead which he'd spend drinking down the pub and making trips to the Bookies. It was Summer after all, never much on the telly in Summer.

Checking one last time that all the site machinery and buildings were secure Johnnie headed back to his Portakabin office to finish off the day's paperwork. 

Half an hour later, all Johnnie's jobs were done and with nothing left to kill the couple of hours till his ferry he drifted off into a mid-afternoon siesta. His head lolling back on his chair, mouth wide like a gargling drain, while Paolo Nutini lamented his need for 'Candy' on The 'West Sound' radio 'Mid-afternoon mega mix'.

If any of the passengers or drivers of the 2 buses, 9 cars, 2 artics and 3 white vans being held up and infuriated by the slow moving tractor that was hampering their journey from Stranraer to Castle Kennedy and beyond along the winding woodland section of the A75; had taken that moment to look up. They may have seen the pitch black swarming cloud undulating it's way across the sky, then swoop down into the thick of trees that hid Aird Kirk from the road. If locals they would probably have thought, 'that's odd the starlings are swooping early today. It's not sunset yet'. 

However, this was not the local starlings putting on their usual Summer evening air show. No, this twisting fog was far more foreboding; down right evil, in fact. 

The demonic cloud circled around the no longer protected church as though it was taking survey of it's potential. Then it looped back on it's self and breezed right through the open doorway of Johnnie's office and rammed it's way into his open mouth. Stretching Johnnie's muscles and gullet as it forced it's way into his body. Johnnie woke, startled and choking but after a brief moments struggle he lost consciousness, slumping on the desk. When Johnnie's eyes blinked open again a few moments later; they were demon black for a brief moment. Someone else now held possession of Johnnie's body.

______________________________________________________________

 

Mid-July 2011,  
on the motorway to Glasgow Airport

Sam and Dean bounced along in their rickety little rental car, glad to finally be on a proper highway or motorway as they called them in Scotland. Even with his seat right back Sam's knees were up near his face. 

It wasn't that all cars in the UK were tiny; they realised as plenty of SUV and mini van type vehicles sped past them on the motorway. It seems that one look at the giant brothers had either irked or amused the tiny clerk at the car rental place and he had decided to bestow these clueless Americans with the smallest car in their fleet. As payback for their imposing height or just for his general amusement.

Dean planned to get his revenge though, he had a piece of fish in batter left from this take out meal he and Sam had gotten late last night from the only food joint open, in the first small village they came too. Where even the gas station was shut by 10pm. He had wrapped it neatly in it's brown paper and planned on leaving it under his seat. 'Take that  
Glasgow Airport car rental douche'. Dean thought smiling to himself. 

Yesterday had been a good day in the Winchester book. Bobby's soul was free and they had got one up on Crowley. Although Dean would liked to have just lit his 'Bic', and torched the son of a bitches bones. Teasing Crowley with the prospect by just 'flicking his Bic' for him had been strangely satisfying. Playing a gleeful mind messing bastard like Crowley at his own game.

Dean had also found a new food related reason to smile. What they called chips over here. Kind of like fries but not really, far chunkier and additively tasty covered in the sharp and savoury of salt and vinegar; were now high on his list of food awesome. Although the drunk guy in line behind them; who seemed to be singing a little tune to himself as he shuffled forward to order. Had ordered some mumbled topping that the chick working behind the counter pronounced back to him as 'salt and sauce'. So now Dean wanted to try that too.

As the mid-morning traffic eased a little Dean's mind wondered to thoughts about the mess that waited for him back home. He felt heart sick responsible for what happened to Sid and Marnie and that Ben and Lisa had been dragged into the danger of his and Sam's underworld life. Yet at the same time he was also strangely grateful for the Djinn attack and the way it had dragged Sam back to him. Even if he wasn't as sure about the ragtag clan of Campbell hunters, calling themselves family; he had brought with him.

Sam was back and Dean could kiss, whoever the beautiful son of a bitch was that had brought him home from hell but there was something not quite right, Dean had began to notice; about the Sam that came back. Something had Dean's gut instincts on high alert. His brother was all a bit too 'Blade Runner' for his liking. 'Androids may dream of electric sheep' but slightly replicant brothers returned from hell gave Winchesters nightmares. 

It was almost as if hell had done something to Sam's humanity. Like when Cas had rammed his hand into the chest of teenager Aaron Birch a few hunts ago to find out who the angel had been he had sold his soul too. Sam had just stood there; clinical, intrigued. The kid was writhing in agony and the Sam, Dean knew and loved as his brother was supposed to be the moral compass. The 'bleeding hearts' and flowers kind of guy who would vehemently protest at such a cruelty but instead Dean alone was left to be the moral compass.

Last night, Sam had munched into his battered sausage supper with gusto and Dean almost believed he saw him smile a little in gratitude; a little spark of the brother he loved but it might have just been that thing babies do when they have gas. After all that 'Irn-Bru' soda stuff was gassy. 

The natural emotional expressions on Sam's face just weren't ringing true since he magically appeared back in Dean's life, back from the grave. A fiery grave that apparently Sam hadn't been in more than five minutes. Yet he had let Dean torture himself with grief for a year, believing he was lost. 

Sam claimed he had kept his return from Dean so his brother could finally have the normal 'apple pie' life he craved but Dean wasn't buying it for a second. This little side trip to  
Scotland had united the brothers for the sake of Bobby but Dean wanted real answers and when they got home he was going to make sure he got them. 

Dean takes a final swig from his bottle of Irn Bru, which had been nestled in the drivers door pocket. It had an odd fruity and almost spicy taste of no discernible description and a scary orange colour but like the chips he couldn't get enough of it. 

Not for the first time since their arrival in her homeland, Dean's thoughts briefly drifted to Gemini. He now understood why she had missed this stuff so bad. After all to her it was a reminder of home. 

The word 'home' rattled around in Dean's head confronting him with images from his year without Sam. His year with Lisa and Ben and the closest thing he had experienced to 'home' since he had been a toddler. In his head, Dean tried to make a list of the tastes and smells that made him long for the comfort and safety of what had became his shelter through the most traumatic year of his life?

Dean could torture himself more efficiently than Alistair ever could. So his year imagining Sam trapped in hell's cage and his complete failure to save him. Had far eclipsed the trauma of his own hell tour; and it had been hardcore. Yet bit by bit Ben and Lisa had worked to help him overcome his grief.

Before Sam came back Dean knew there would never be a day he wouldn't grieve his brother's loss and feel the gut wrenching gnaw of the 'what ifs' but Lisa and Ben had helped him learn again how to put one foot in front of the other and face the world.  
To breathe through the pain and to step back from his desperate urge to either drink himself into the abyss or just toss himself in head first. They were his safe harbour; he clung to them. Did he love them? Sure as hell, as much as he loved Bobby and Sam like family. Was he 'in love' with Lisa?

“ Next exit Dean, Dean!” Sam barked, flipping on Dean's indicator as he snapped back to  
reality and struggled to find it. 

“Son of a bitch. Damn back to front Brit cars.” Dean yells in frustration. He looks in the rear view as a loud and long honk from the car coming up fast behind him sounds, after they had been almost dangerously cut up by Dean swerving into their lane. The offended driver shoots past as the brothers turn off toward the airport.

Sam looks over at the angry driver.

“ Hmm, it must be true what they say about Scots being friendly. You just cut that guy up and he's still giving you a peace sign.”

Dean smiled as he remembered another little bit of UK etiquette education Gemini had given him.

“ I bet you $20 that wasn't a peace sign, Sammy.”

Sam just shrugs, as Dean pulls into the car hire section of the not huge but still busy 'Glasgow International Airport'. Jumping out first; Sam lifts their minimal baggage from the trunk while Dean plants his fishy surprise.  
_____________________________________________________________ 

 

2

 

Dean slides his hands from Gemini's hips, up around her naked waist. Spreading his fingers wide as he moves them up her body; cupping her breasts, squeezing them and stroking her nipples. He briefly rests his hot cheek against her back, then leans his forehead against her shoulder; catching his breath. His mouth gasps open as pleasure rushes through him. A groan escaping his throat. 

He grazes Gemini's shoulder blade with his teeth as he bites down against the ecstatic rush that is building between them. Straightening. Dean slides his hands back to Gemini's hips increasing the speed and rhythm at which his hipbones bounce against the cushion of her ample ass. 

Dean, loves to watch Gemini in the mirror in front of them. To see the fruits of his labour written all over her flushed face as she bites down on her lip. Holding his gaze in the reflection, daring him to give her more; make it faster. Then the satisfaction of knowing he has met her challenge when the same lips form a perfect O. As her panting breaths cease momentarily; allowing airway for an illicit moan to escape her lips as she squeezes her eyes shut tight. The intensity causing her fingers to tighten their grip around the basin of the bathroom sink as her arms shaking with adrenaline fight to keep her body upright no longer sure her trembling legs can function to support her weight. 

Dean briefly slides the fingers of his left hand down between Gemini's thighs. Teasing her with his fingers but only enough to take her closer to the edge, not over. He tilts his head back licking his lips as the next wave begins to wash over him. Squeezing his own eyes shut tight. His vision blurring with perspiration as the train on a track rhythm of Sophie B Hawkins 'Damn (Wish I was your lover)' keeps his pace. Gasping, Dean lowers his head and opens his eyes....

Sophie B, is playing on the radio as Dean drives their tiny rental car along a winding coast road. To his right the ocean and in the midst of it a strange hump of island. To his left a shear rock face held in place by wire mesh which can be seen out Sam's passenger window. Sam is in shotgun.

Dean looks up at the road. Cautious due to it's twists and turns. A large boulder appears on the grass verge that boundaries the sea, it has been randomly defaced by a spray painted message that declares 'Jesus Saves'.

Dean has no clue where he is driving to.

“Where we headed Sammy?” he asks, checking the rear-view; catching sight of Gemini's half eaten corpse in the back seat. Her dead eyes wide her mouth making that same O. Her skin blistered and crisp as though she's been burnt.  
A voice that is not Sam's replies “ Stranraer.”

Dean awakens with a start. Terrified, wildly aroused and confused. It takes him a minute to adjust to his surroundings in the 'Glasgow Airport' hotel. Sophie B Hawkins is on the TV strutting around bare foot and in 90's grunge gear as the music video for her massive hit fades out. Dean grabs the remote from beside his bed, shutting off the TV.  
Swinging his socked feet round on to the floor and placing his head in his hands. He tries to make sense of his disturbingly vivid dream. 

Part of it; the arousing part. Was a memory from his hotel lock down with Gemini in Wheeling, probably unearthed by his subconscious and the song. The rest; a nightmare just too vivid to ignore in his business.

Twenty minutes later Dean emerged from the shower. Sam had returned with food (salad sandwiches, much to Dean's disgust).

“ Have you checked the rental back in yet Sammy?”

Sam looked at his brother his reply curious but his face not quite mirroring his tone.

“ No, why?”

“ We're going to Stranraer.” Dean says, throwing things into his bag. His fishy revenge plans would have to wait.

____________________________________________________________

3

 

Mid-July 2011  
The South Ayrshire coast

As Sam drove down the winding South Ayrshire coast, Dean found it hauntingly familiar from his dream. Right down to the 'Jesus Saves' graffiti but breathtakingly beautiful as he observed the way the green hills flowed down through farms, odd little groups of quirky houses, tiny run down towns and passed some massive old fancy place called 'Turnberry' that had it's own golf course. Then out towards the sea and the odd looking island. 

Dean had discovered this island was called 'The Ailsa Craig'. It was made from the plug of an ancient volcano and it was for sale. He had got all this info when he had insisted Sam stop in Girvan, so he could go 'hit the head' which just happened to be right next to a chip shop. 

So in the name of research Dean ventured in for 'some intel' and wandered back out with the afore mentioned news, a bottle of red soda ('Red Kola') sticking out of one pocket. 'Irn Bru' in the other and a carrier bag of food packages around his wrist; while he stuffed his face with what he declared triumphantly to Sam as 'chips and curry sauce.' 

After driving a while along what looked like a road through a forest. They finally came out at the sparkling sea again and entered the region of 'Dumfries and Galloway'. A green sign listing town names including Stranraer, indicated it was now less than 10 miles away.

___________________________________________________________

May 2010

The sun was lower in the sky now; the battle was relentless. It had been going on for about four hours. 

Gemini, the sisters and the warrior weans had been fighting small supernatural battles and following supernatural activity for months; on their road to this battle Royale. All over Scotland and right through Dumfries and Galloway.

You name it they fought it. Covens, banshees, fairies, martyred ghosts from the witch trials. The demon that remained of smuggler extrodinare, Captain Yawkins aboard his ghost ship 'The Black Prince which dogged the Solway Firth. 

In life Yawkins was a man so possessive of his ship that he sold his own soul and and one tenth of his crew from every voyage to a demon in order to guarantee her safe passage. 

Selkies, kelpies, ghouls and cursed objects. All that was missing was Samhain himself and it had all lead them back to Gemini's home town, Stranraer and this epic battle. 

They were all pretty sure that this was 'Apocalypse Now'. The enemy had to be on to their reserves from a region wide Zombie drive. How else had their assault been so intense and unbroken. 

The hill side was a canvas of strewn zombie carcasses. Gemini was starting to run low on the energy it took to keep up the fight. In the words of Jackson Browne, she was 'Running on Empty'. Adrenaline was her only power source; her own mortality her motivation. She needed a new tune. Skirting behind a rock Gemini rips the I-pod from her arm redialling it  
to Patti Smith's 'Till Victory'.  
___________________

Over in Lawrence, Dean had taken his life in his own hands, without a second thought (as usual) by driving his Baby, right into the middle of the 'Michael v Lucifer' smack down; and he was currently getting his ass pounded by a Sam in-cased Lucifer for his trouble. 

Bobby, lay near by; his neck snapped and Cas had been turned into a bloody stain on the grass by Lucifer. After he tried to help the Winchesters by molotov-ing Michael with a holy oil cocktail. Sending his ass on a celestial detour. Momentarily calling end of round one on 'Rumble in the Hell mouth'. 

Plenty of people have commented over the years on Sam and Dean's brotherly relationship being messed up and dependent but the Winchesters look totally balanced when compared to Lucifer and Michael. Who took the whole 'No one can lay a finger on my brother but me' maxim to a new extreme.

Dean slumps like a rag against the Impala, unable to fight off Lucifer's relentless attack. His swollen eye bulging out of it's socket; his face the bruised and uneven soil beneath a river of blood. 

Lucifer catches a glimpse of himself in the window of the Impala. The jolt of recognition of the face staring back allows Sam to claw his way back to the surface. The sentimentality of the sight of the toy soldier wedged into the ashtray when he and Dean were kids, that he sees inside beyond his reflection; fortifying his fight and allowing him to take his body back.

Sam uses this moment of clarity to dig the horsemen's rings from his pocket. Throwing them down. He opens the hell mouth. Expressing with his eyes (in a way he never could with his words) how much he loved and would miss his brother. How sorry he is for everything; even the burdens they have carried through out their young lives that were always beyond Sam and Dean's control. 

Then Sam closes his eyes and leans back, ready to be the ultimate sacrifice; to surrender it all.  
_______________________

Gemini looks out from behind the rock. Scathach, Aife and the weans are relentlessly kicking Zombie butt. Including sadly, Zombie Warrior Wean butt as some of the warrior children fall prey to the streaming un-dead mass that has engulfed the hillside. Grabbing her sword; now liberally stained in zombie goo. Gemini closes her eyes a moment to take a cleansing breath.  
________________________

Michael reappears at Sam's side trying to catch Sam mid fall so the fight between he and Lucifer can go ahead. Instead Sam grasps Michael tightly and drags him down into the hole. Dean shades his swollen eyes as the hell hole closes as quickly as it opened and a flash of white light echo's from the disappearing crater.  
_________________________

At that very moment Gemini opens her eyes and turns to rise from behind the rock; her determination renewed. The ground beneath her shudders and she has to shield her eyes as the light of a Hiroshima watt blast explodes in front of her; momentarily knocking her out. When she comes too; what feels like hours but is in fact minutes later. The battle field is empty. Everyone is gone. Looking down towards the town in the low light of a 6.45pm, early May evening. It's as if none of it happened at all.

______________________________________________________________

 

Mid- July 2011  
The road to Stranraer

Sam and Dean followed the coast round to Stranraer. The sky was a little over cast but they had seen none of the Seattle level of rain they expected for Scotland.

The tiny coast road was bumpy and had seen better days but something about the farmland and hillsides, shore line and little houses was idyllic; the way it curved round the water. Even the giant wind farm, windmills on the distant hill looked picturesque as they looked down over the scene.

The brothers had been in such a rush to get here; spurred on by Dean's fevered dream. That they hadn't thought on as far as the next step of the plan. Now they were here, why were they here? How did Gemini fit into it all? They didn't even know where she was in the world.

They were now entering the town proper. The left hand side of the road was lined by fairly big private houses that had been built sometime in the early to mid twentieth century. On the right a sign on the sea wall read, 'Cairnryan Road', this was the name of the little village they had passed first on their entry into Dumfries and Galloway, just after road works that eased traffic passed a huge construction site down on the coast line.

Apart from a lighthouse, a small house, a tiny graveyard and crumbling pier at one end and a ferry port; run-down hotel and hidden camp-site at the other. Cairnryan had literally looked like one street of houses, with the odd B&B and the shell of an old gas station; slotted against a hillside. To the unknowing eye you would never know the history it held. The important role this little village played in World War Two.

An old man leaned against the sea wall beside the 'Cairnryan Road' sign. A walking stick in one hand, a Border Collie at his feet; both of them staring at nothing in deep thought. Both suddenly roused back to reality when they sensed 'newcomers' in their midst. Staring at Sam and Dean as they rolled by squished into the tiny car. Both man and dog tilted their head to the side in curiosity.

The brothers stared back in defiance. Dean even considered flipping the old guy 'the bird' for creeping him out. Any thought of this soon disappeared as the local radio station playing some boy band inspired pop crap suddenly crackled out and Pat Benatar's 'Invincible' blared in over the speakers catching the brothers by surprise; before fading out again. Then just as quickly returning back to the bland pop dross it had been previously playing.

Dean had a hunch. Taking the first junction on his left he drove around in a square, turning back on himself passing houses, two schools and a tiny store before arriving back where the old man stood staring on 'Cairnryan Road'. As he passed the furthest end of the block of houses it happened again. This time Pat cut in over some soppy, 'girl on a piano' love ballad. Third time was the charm and the undeniable proof to Dean that Gemini was near somewhere. 

For those of you who don't know Dean and Gemini's history, shame on you; you need to read 'Vessels of Intent' (PART 1 & 2) but here's the short hand.

Dean had been bewitched to a Mobile motel one night in October 2007. Where he, (an as yet unnamed) Gemini and unbeknown to Dean, Scathach and Aife inside the body of Gemini; had had a wild night he would never forget. This was the night the warrior goddesses had conceived Alexander and Morna completing their mission and their 'Wean Warrior' army. 

When Dean was rudely awoken the next morning by a terrified cleaning lady who thought his worn out body was a naked corpse; he had taken 'the walk of shame' to the motel office to find out who his gymnastic lay had been. The manager had identified her from the register as Ms P. Benatar, who would later be revealed as Gemini Jones when a buddy of Bobby's (called Floyd) had recommended the boys team up with this hunter chick with freaky musical tracking abilities on 'The Bruno Gunnerson hunt'. Freaky music tracking and manipulating abilities.

On the Winchester's fourth go round the old man flagged them down.

“Are you boys lost.” he asked his wizened old eyes sizing the brothers up. His 'toon' twang just about decipherable to the Winchester's ears. Dean squinted at the old geezer while his brain translated for his ears what the old man had said, then he put on his most charming smile as he replied. Sam meanwhile just stared at the old guy sizing him up.

“ We are as it happens. You see we are just here on vacation from the States and our little sister has begged us to look up a pen friend of hers, but you see my little brother here; has gone and lost the address. So we need a recommendation for a good hotel, so we can check in and call little sis or you wouldn’t by any chance know a Gemini Jones? 

“ Gemini Jones?.. Gemini Jones??” The old man pondered. Straightening up to watch other  
cars pass by as he rubbed his weathered and grey scuffed chin, thoughtfully. Dean leaned back in his seat, hands on the wheel. Shifting his gaze from side to side; impatient for an answer. 

Now there was hope they might be on to something. 'Small towns man,' thought Dean, 'everybody knows everybody.' Dean's eyes stopped on a side squint at Sam who was still hunched forward looking at the old man intrigued. 

Dean turned back to look at the old coot to see if he was any closer to finding an answer only to come face to face with the fact the old man had forgotten a few things in his old age; including to zip up his fly. 

Wide eyed and slightly horrified at the clear presence of old man junk in his sight line. Dean was about to avert his gaze when the old man's face appeared back in his window's frame.

“Och yes, that's what Gregory Cochrane's lassie is calling her sel noo a days...She is a bonnie lass that one but queer as a nine bob note. Not surprising mind you giving her family history and all. Lives up at that white hoose, wi the blue trim and the daft looking teacup on the door step.”

Dean nearly choked in surprise. Intrigued and slightly taken a back by the old man's really not politically correct outing of Gemini. Slapping on his best homespun, corn-fed, straight off the tourist bus smile, he thanked the old man and then the brothers gave him a wave as they turned into the junction of Gemini's avenue. Moment's later they were at her door.

'Nice digs.' Dean says as he presses the doorbell. Looking impressed and over at Sam who nodded his agreement. Dean looked down at the giant blue spotted teacup as he waited; giving it his appraisal. He kind of liked it but he wasn't going to admit it out loud.

The brothers could see the outline of someone pretty short. Who appeared to be carrying something bulky, approach as they peered through the partially frosted glass on the inside door. Dean knew on instinct it was Gemini he would know that outline anywhere; his hands had traced it's curves often enough.

Gemini, shifted the bulky basket of clean washing onto her hip, as she unlatched the door. Then proceeded to drop the whole lot unceremoniously onto the hall carpet. Her normally huge eyes, now 'Looney Tunes' wide at the sight of Dean Winchester on her doorstep; back from the dead. 

“Holy Fuck! You're alive.” Gemini cries out before her brain can fully take in the sight of Dean. She rests her hand on the table by the door trying to take in the magnitude of the situation; finding her balance she steps away from the table. Plant spray bottle in hand and proceeds to douse Sam and Dean in holy water. 

Saving her the trouble the boys pulled out their silver blades; cutting their forearms. Gemini did the same and then wrapping a crumpled dish towel around her arm; she tramples over the discarded washing to throw her arms around Dean in a relieved embrace. Dean wraps his arms around her, a smile dancing on his lips at the comfort of  
feeling those curves again. He had missed this more than he realised. 

______________________________________________________________

4

Mid-July 2011  
The Old Aird Kirk 

New Johnnie strolled into his office, pulling a bundle of photocopied documents from inside his jacket. Slapping them carelessly down on the desk. Strolling over to Johnnie's locker he swung the door open catching sight of himself in the crappy quality shaving mirror Johnnie had hung there specifically for the mornings after he had 'a few too many' late night drinks in the office and forgot to go back to his digs.

“It's no the finest looking suit you've ever worn Auld Nick....” The egotistical demon said to himself frowning slightly at his reflection.

“Och, but it will do the now..” Auld Nick slammed the locker door and strolled over to sit at Johnnie's desk. Sitting down, he cracked Johnnie's neck and his fingers and then slid the pile of papers towards him. A smirk smearing his lips as he reached into the breast pocket of his shirt. Lifting out an aged and wrinkled, official looking document. Gemini Jones or as she officially was; Gemma Cochrane's, birth certificate. Auld Nick gloated to himself about how clever he had been to snatch and hide a few useful articles from Gemini's childhood cottage all those years ago before he gleefully burnt it to a crisp.

He unfolds the official looking print outs of a much newer document reading again the names printed on it. Gemma Louise Cochrane, Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road, Stranraer and in the adjoining box: Nicholas Forbes-Foster, address unknown, Edinburgh.

“ Now lets see what this Forbes-Foster crater fits like? A new Nick for an Auld Nick. I cannae wait to see the look on your face; you wee bitch. I've finally got you and I'm going to enjoy seeing you suffer.” Nick chuckled to himself rolling the papers up like a baton in his hand. 

He headed over to the shell of the old kirk letting himself in, locking the door behind him. Thirteen minutes and twelve seconds later he breezed out through the church vents in his true demonic smog form and headed for the nations capital.

____________________________________________________________

Mid-July 2011  
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road

Gemini sits crossed legged in the middle of the double bed folding towels. Still unable to believe Dean is here; he's alive!  
Sam is in the kitchen on Gemini's laptop checking out the local news and lore for any clues on what might have eaten Gemini in Dean's dream. So far only finding a load of sketchy ghost and fairy lore. That, that part of Scotland was in the middle of a dry spell when it came to rain and that farmers were on alert. Fearful of the return of 'Foot and Mouth' after an isolated cluster of suspicious cattle deaths on a local dairy farm.

Dean stood by the window looking out towards Loch Ryan. Trying to give Gemini a minute to digest all the info he had bombarded her with concerning his return from hell and her own potentially grizzly demise; but soon enough the awkward silence and curiosity got the better of him.

“ So.. I hear you're batting for the other team now...” Dean says turning to look Gemini in the eye and then down at his hands. feeling a blush creep his cheeks at his own vulnerability in relation to the question.

“It's great, really, just after all we did together in Wheeling, you... seemed pretty well... satisfied with the whole guy/girl thing..... you were you know... satisfied?”

Gemini peered up at him, a quizzical stare crinkling her brow.

“Dean, did you in the most unsubtle way ever just ask me if I've become lesbian and then soundboard me to make sure it wasn't because I was 'unsatisfied' with your skills in the sack?”

“ No....NO, don't be crazy. Just the old guy, him over there..” Dean said pointing out at the old geezer with the collie.

“ When we asked about you he said you were as 'queer as a nine bob note'. Which I have to say is a really judgemental way to put it...”

Gemini tried to stifle a chuckle.

“What?, Dean said allowing himself a nervous side smile.”

“ Dean, No 1. I like Dick not Pollyanna, although I can appreciate her beauty. No 2. You have no worries in the satisfaction department and 3. When he said I was 'queer' he was calling me a weirdo. Cheeky auld bugger, he wanders up and down the shore line everyday, in all weathers, 'flying low' and he thinks I'm weird.”

“ Flying Low, what does that mean??” Dean asks, happy to hide his relief and the fact he was a little bit chuffed to be confirmed as a success in the sack; behind the questioning  
moment.

“ with his fly open.”

“Ah, I see or should I say I've seen.” says Dean. Gemini makes a 'yikes' face and Dean nods in agreement. 

As he turns from the window, Dean notices a little gold bottle sitting on the chest of drawers and walks over to it. Gemini watches as he lifts the little bottle of scented body oil off of the top of the chest. Smiling to herself as she looks down at the towel she is folding.

“You still using this stuff.” Dean asks. Looking over at Gemini; giving her a knowing glance and a wicked grin. 

He was almost sure she squirmed a little and blushed. Breaking Dean's gaze, Gemini, focused her attention back on the towel on her lap; placing it over in the folded pile. Making Dean think of that night in the 'Farmhouse Bar' after they had solved the 'Bruno Gunnerson' hunt. When things got kind of heated and he had come to the bar on the premise of apologising for some really out of line things he had said to Gemini in anger. 

Dean remembered how almost innocent, nervous and lonely Gemini had looked as she would turn her attention toward shredding her cardboard coaster into confetti every time the conversation got too close to her feeling vulnerable.

“Hey....” Gemini shrugs, smiling up at Dean; cheeky defiance back in her eyes.

“What is it you Americans say?...if it ain't broke, don't fix it.”

Dean, raises his eyebrow at Gemini mischievously, daring her to stop him as he pops the cap off the little bottle.

Gemini grins at him, shaking her head in a 'what you like?' sort of way.

Dean breathes in the sensual aroma of the golden liquid; a special blend of nut oils, berries and petals.. Letting it fill his lungs, arouse his senses and jog his memory back to their 'foxhole' in Wheeling.  
\----------------------

Dean lays on his back on the motel bed, his head propped against a pile of pillows. Wearing only his jeans which are unbuttoned. Gemini sits astride his lap wearing only panties and his tartan shirt. Closed only by two midriff buttons, her silk robe abandoned on the floor. It's belt lost in the chaos of the room after a vigorous game of 'good cop' ties up 'bad cop'. Dean being 'bad cop'. Jeff Buckley sings seductively in the background about how 'Everybody here wants you.”

Gemini lifts the little gold bottle from the bedside table. Popping it's cap, she drizzles it's  
contents on to Dean's chest. Biting her lip in concentration. Dean found this look adorable but he would never tell Gemini so; for two reasons. 

1: He would never be caught dead using the word 'adorable' without an appropriately  
hefty dose of sarcasm laced through it.

2: He wasn't totally sure telling Gemini she was high on the 'adorable scale' wouldn't  
get his ass kicked six ways from Sunday. For such a short chick she was surprisingly  
strong and a little scary when she wanted to be. 

All thoughts of adorable soon faded when Gemini began rubbing the oil into the skin of Dean's chest in lazy seductive circles. Applying just the right amount of pressure with her thumbs and finger tips.  
Dean couldn't hide how good it felt. How turned on he was by the awesome aroma and the feel of Gemini's hands stroking his skin. Sliding down over his abs, then his stomach. Causing his muscles to palpitate in response as she slide her soft, slick fingers over his hip  
bones before griping lightly on his hips for a brief moment. 

As Gemini's fingers approached the top of Dean's open jeans, he raised his ass from the mattress; almost expectant. His body urging Gemini to inch their denim down off of his hips. To free him from the ever tightening restraint they were becoming.

Then, just as he hoped he was about to get a reprise of the 'tongue twister' he had been erotically awakened by after his afternoon nap. Gemini, quickly squashes Dean's hopes by continuing the circling strokes back up his torso again. Massaging his shoulders before sliding her hands down his muscular arms. 

Dean was sure the enjoyment must have been written all over his face; he was so relaxed in all the right places but tense in the best way possible. Gemini's fingers had hit the spot no 'Magic Fingers' had ever quite reached.

“Seriously Deano...” Gemini said, leaning back to fully take in the sight of Dean's toned arms and torso.

“They need to release 'grave digging' as a fitness DVD, cause the amount of crap you eat, you should be way softer bodied than this.” Gemini unhooked the only two buttons on Dean's soft brush cotton shirt that were covering her modesty and shrugged it off her shoulders. The softness of the cotton slid deliciously against her skin as the shirt pooled around her lap. Gemini strokes her oiled hands over her breasts and torso as teasing examples of the pleasures of a softer body.

“ like this.” She pops the cap back on the bottle leaning forward to place it back on the bedside table. When she sits up again Dean is giving her a lazy knowing smile.

“What?” Gemini asks, as she brushes her cheek self consciously. Doing that thing that makes you almost cross eyed; as you try to see if there is something on your own face.

Dean sits upright, running his hands over the soft curves of Gemini's torso.

“I see what you mean....” he says like he is a scientist who has made an interesting discovery. Dean cups Gemini's breasts in his hands; lightly stroking the pads of his thumbs across her nipples, feeling her breasts rise and fall to his touch as Gemini exhales a heavy breath.

“ Generally soft and warm....but a little harder here.”

He can feel Gemini squirm a little on his lap. Enjoying the friction it is building between them, Dean takes the nipple of her left breast into his mouth; sucking it gently teasing it with his tongue. Gemini moans softly, running her fingers through Dean's hair. Increasing the pace of her hips; heightening the intensity and pleasure of the friction.

“Mmm....” Dean mumbles, releasing the grip of his lips from Gemini's breast. 

“ Tastes pretty darn good too.” Gemini gives him an innocent smile, looking down at her breasts running her finger tips in soft circles over her bullet hard nipples. Looking back up at Dean, she gives him a doe eyed flutter of her big baby blues. Playing Dean at his own  
teasing game.

“You think so...??” she asks feigning innocence, then she pushes him back against the  
mountain of pillows, leaning forward kissing him lightly on his full lips; using just enough intensity to make him raise his head off the pillow reaching for more. Making sure to rub her breasts against the contours of his slick chest. She brushes her lips softly against his, sucking gently on his bottom lip before sitting back up and looking him straight in the eye.

“ But does it taste as good as it feels?” She enquires.

Dean licks his lips. Never breaking her gaze. A frisson of excitement tickling his skin as he thinks 'game on'. He lifts his left arm up resting it behind his head to give the impression to Gemini he could comfortably lay there taking her on in this 'seductive stare off' all day; If need required. 

He lifts his other arm up as though he intends to rest his head on it too. Settling in for the long haul but instead as Gemini eases her way up his body, again (still matching 'blue steel' to his 'piercing greens') Dean waits till she is in grasping distance and then hooks his free hand around her waist; rolling her on to her back.

He rolls on top of her, triumphant! Kissing her deeply. Gemini slides her hands down inside Dean's jeans stroking his ass. While Dean strokes Gemini's cheek with his thumb as he kisses her. Dean breaks away from the kissing, sliding off his jeans; kicking them to the floor. Looking back at Gemini, he replies in his best Sean Connery as James Bond imitation.

“ Good question Miss Jones.. There is only one way to find out.”

Gemini stifles a chuckle, biting her lip and affectionately stroking Dean's lower back.  
Dean liked the feeling of pride he got when he made those dimples appear on her cheeks.

“ And what is that Mr Winchester?” Gemini asks playing along; her face etched in mock concern. Dean kisses his way down Gemini's body in lieu of a reply. Looking at every inch of her in that awe struck way of his that never failed to make Gemini want to wrap herself around him; tight. 

“Intensive research.” Dean finally replied giving Gemini a wicked grin as he slid off her 

panties and set to work. His head bobbing between her thighs.  
\------------------------------

“Dean!” Sam's voice snapped Dean out of his daydream.

“Son of a bitch Sammy, what ?” Dean replies a slight whine in his tone, irked to be cut off just as he was getting to the good stuff. As he comes back down to earth Dean is flooded by feelings of guilt about his enjoyment of the past now thoughts of Ben and Lisa waiting back home have sprang to the front of his mind again. 

Sam didn't blink an eye at Dean's reaction but Gemini, who was now stacking the folded towels into the cupboard above the bed looked round at Dean with an expression that said  
'OK son, keep your hair on.'

“ There is someone coming; some really, REALLY!, freakishly tall chick with a little kid.” Sam replied. Gemini's face lit up with recognition at Sam's description.

“Uathach and Jeff.” she says excitedly, scrambling down off the bed and rushing to the door to let them in.

“Bless You?” Dean replies, confused as to whether Gemini had spoken or sneezed. 

However not as confused as he was when he entered the hallway just in time to watch a little golden haired boy of about three years old. Running as fast as he could on his chunky little legs, his face bright with delight and his little arms open wide as he ran into Gemini's waiting hold yelling the word 'mummy', over and over.

“Hey wee man, I've missed you!!” Gemini replies scooping Jeff up into a tight, loving embrace. Resting his weight on her hip. Turning toward Sam and Dean a proud smile on her lips; Gemini makes the introductions.

“Jeff, I would like you to meet Sam and Dean. Mummy's friends from America.”

Jeff mumbled a brief 'hello' before shoving his fingers into his mouth and cuddling his face into Gemini's neck; suddenly overcome by shyness toward these strangers. Gemini beamed at Sam and Dean. Sam gave her a smile but it seemed slightly hollow and poor Dean just looked horrified.

Uathach, chose that moment to burst through the open doorway only slightly weighed down, with all the bags and paraphernalia it took to look after a toddler on a two week stay at the family compound on the Isle of Skye. If Dean hadn't been in such a state of shock he might have been surprised by her near 7 foot height and that Sam didn't rush forward to help her.

“ And this is Uathach, or as we call her for quickness and so Jeff can pronounce it; Ivy, 'The Terrible'...”announced Gemini smiling. The brothers just looked at her confused. 

“It's an 'in' joke. You kind of have to have been a Beano comic reader to get. Just Ivy will do fine.”

 

Ivy, barely skirted a glance over Dean who was staring shell shocked at the back of Jeff's curly blonde head. However she did take her time checking out Sam. Sam eyed her back with interest. It was rare he met a woman he could look up at. What would he think if he knew Ivy was in fact a short ass compared to the rest of her family. 'Now that one I could work with.' Ivy thought to herself giving Sam the silent 'How you doing?'

Gemini walked through to the living room, setting Jeff down on his play mat. The rest followed her through. Dean in front, Sam and Ivy bringing up the rear. Gemini took Dean by the arm and led him through to the kitchen while Sam and Ivy got comfy in the living room. She pulled a chair out for Dean at the kitchen table, smiling at him kindly. She could see what he was thinking.

“Sit down Deano, We need to talk...” Dean slouched down heavily into the chair, placing his elbows on the table, running his hands nervously though his hair. Gemini walked over  
to the kitchen.

“Tea or whisky?” Gemini asked as she boiled the kettle and slid a mug from the cupboard, then on tiptoes reached up high in the cupboard above the kettle and carefully slid out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. Dean looked like he was badly in need of the premium stuff and pronto. Dean nodded to the latter.

“ Daft question, right?” Gemini said smiling, taking the expensive bottle and a tumbler off the shelf over for Dean. Sitting opposite him, she opens the bottle pouring Dean a glass.

“Slangevar ” Gemini says, raising the glass to Dean then setting it down in front of him. A distracted smile briefly brushes across Dean's lips before the concern quickly returns to cloud his eyes and crease his brow. 

“For crying out loud man, relax will you, he's not yours. Jeff's daddy is a banker, both in the sense as it sounds with your fingers inside your cheeks pulling your lips apart and without.”

Dean stares at her, eyes wide as the information took a minute to chip though to his brain, so relief could wash over him, reanimating his face and returning colour to his cheeks.

“He lives in Edinburgh. I was just home; lonely. It was the stupidest move I ever made but it brought me the love of my life; my wee Jeff.”

Dean hooks his fingers into his mouth. Pulling his cheeks tight so he couldn't close his lips together and mumbled the word 'banker' but it came out slightly different than he expected and he understood what Gemini had meant by 'mistake'. This made Gemini laugh and reach across the table to squeeze his hand.

“I've missed you, you crazy fool. Tell me everything! How did you escape hell? What have you two been doing and what is wrong with your brother?”  
____________________________________________________________

Edinburgh Hogmanay  
2007- New Years Day 2008

The gun shot echoed from the castle, ushering in the new year. Cheers erupted through out the packed Edinburgh streets as fire works blazed into the night sky. Gemini found herself in the up market apartment of a man she'd only known three days. A man she was falling for. Wiping a stray tear that slid down her cheek. She watched the throng of revellers out on the street below, the atmosphere electric as the sea of bodies, kissed and hugged and joined together in 'Auld Lang Syne'. 

The whole Hogmanay party here in the capital was broadcast to the nation and  
minutes before 'The Bells' when the lone piper played. Scots across the country took a moment to think of loved ones far away. 

A moment that always got right to the heart of Gemini as she thought about her dad, the mum she never knew and this year; Sam and Dean Winchester. No amount of handsome dark haired 'first footers' armed with coal could save Dean from what lay ahead for him. Thinking about it made Gemini feel so angry and helpless and she thought of poor Sam because if being unable to save Dean clawed her up inside; how much greater a torture must it be for his beloved brother or for Dean himself?

Gemini had arrived in Edinburgh on Boxing Day. The purpose of her trip could be described as the warrior's equivalent of 'Rumspringa'. Ever since they had arrived back in Scotland and especially once Alexander and Morna had been born. Gemini had been at a loss; a crossroads as to what she should do with her life now her vessel duties were over.

Her days with Dean had opened her up to wanting to explore life; however short lived. He had shown her how it felt to care, to be desired and now she dared to hope to know what it would mean to be loved. Sure the monsters would always be beating at her door but it wouldn't be so easy for them to spot her without the neon presence of warrior goddesses following her everywhere, and there was the cross Gemini stood on. They weren't just warrior goddesses; they were the closest thing she had to family. 

Sure the death of her American upper crust grandparents had assured her financial security as their only heir but despite her best efforts to bond with them they were never more than perfunctory in their approach towards her. Her grandfather especially bitter. The sight of Gemini nothing more than a reminder to him of the daughter he lost. 

The sisters had raised her, taught her all she knew but if she chose to be with them she could kiss goodbye to any chance to find love, to have the normal family life she always craved. Seeing the loyalties warring with in her Scathach and Aife gave Gemini space and time to decide. Agreeing to let her alone back out into her human world.

Gemini is suddenly dragged back from her window watching lament as the stereo clicks on behind her and the soft seductive tones of Joan Osborne's voice singing 'Lumina' wash over her. She feels strong arms slide around her waist and Nick's lips soft and warm  
against the tender spot of flesh that lay between the curve of her neck and her shoulder.

“ Happy New Year, sweetheart.” Nick's words rumbled just below Gemini's ear. The warm gravel of his hot as hell, polite Edinburgh accent lighting up the erogenous zones in Gemini's body like a Christmas tree. 

She was a sucker for that voice, the crinkles that appeared around Nick's grey/blue eyes and the accompanying parenthesis lines that marked his cheeks when those lips quirk into an easy seductive smile. 

Gemini reached her hand up behind her. Running her fingers through Nick's thick brown hair. Hair, unlike Dean's she could grab hold of. A breathy sigh escaped her as she leaned back into Nick; closing her eyes. She stepped out of her heels as he undid the zip on her blue sequinned dress. Unclasping her bra and sliding his hands inside. 

Gemini felt safe in his hands, as the dress and her bra straps slid from her shoulders and  
she let them fall to the floor. Spinning her round; Nick enveloped Gemini in a warm embrace kissing her deep. Gemini felt like she could stay like this forever. Like them being  
together like this could generate the energy to fix the world or at least take away the sadness.  
____________________________

 

April Fools Day, 2008  
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan road

Gemini sat on the pouffe that had come free with her new sofa. Watching Uathach's car pull out onto the shore road as the umpteenth intense rain shower of the day caused the sky to dim to an ominous grey. It's aggressive rain drops power washing the windows of her new home. Turning, she looked at the room. The sofa still in it's delivery plastic, partly unpacked boxes everywhere. Gemini felt like the biggest 'Fool' of them all. 

Standing up, she distractedly and protectively rubbed her hand over her belly. The little swell was beginning to show Jeff was in the house (although at this stage Gemini knew neither his gender or future name). The stereo that sat in the corner waiting to be lifted on to the shelf and plugged in suddenly lit up. It's blue screen indicating a track from a CD that wasn't even in it. As the slightly haunting and fun-house wonky orchestration of Jill Scott's 'Love Rain' began to play, mirroring Gemini's emotional state. 

The pregnancy hormones had began affecting her musical manipulating abilities and exposing her intense emotions in this way pretty much since the fateful day at the end of February when she had finally discovered the truth about Nick. About the love she thought they had found that was really just her love for him bouncing back to her as a false reflection. If only her desperation to know love hadn't blinded her to Nick's lies; Gemini sighed. 

Hearing the song for about the hundredth time that day. It told a story not dissimilar to her own, a constant reminder of her hurt, regret and stupidity. No matter where she went if there was a stereo or docking station; anything music could be played on. The song would come on exposing her raw emotions and shame at being a fool so easily manipulated by the lie of love.

Their relationship had been like a rocket kicking off at break neck speed and Gemini may have been a 27 year old woman in body but in matters of the heart she was still a 13 year old girl; desperate for that first love. Sex being her only emotional point of reference meant Gemini fell for all Nick's whispered declarations in the dark accepting them as truth, as real love. That was until the weekend in late February, when she went to Skye to visit Uathach and the sisters, the weekend she discovered she was pregnant.

Gemini had headed back to Edinburgh so nervous; she had written down what she wanted to tell Nick. Unsure how he would react to the news but never expecting to find what she did. Nick writhing on the living room floor of his apartment in a state of complete undress with the two 'hostesses' from his favourite bar. Lines of coke cut up on the glass coffee table. The only clothing featuring in the scenario, Gemini's as one of these women had the audacity to be wearing her silk robe. 

The same woman would find herself pinned to the wall by the sleeve of said robe 10 minutes later. When she in her 'coked up' state had stupidly got a bit too mouthy and finger wagging with Gemini on Nick's behalf and Gemini had grabbed the letter opener from Nick's desk and speared her to the wall. This had instantly taken the wind out of 'Miss Mouthy's' sails and seen both Nick and the 'other' in this little tryst scenario crawl for cover while Gemini gathered her belongings.

It was a good thing not another word was said because Gemini was so filled with hurt and rage that the next person who dared address her would get a sharp object through more than a sleeve. 

Shoving the last of her few belongings into her shoulder bag; Gemini spotted the letter she'd written. Crumpling it in anger she threw it and the keys at Nick and almost took the door of the hinges as she slammed it behind her.  
______________________________________________

 

Mid-July 2011  
Dun Scaith Cairnryan Road

 

Eight hours, a bottle of Johnnie Blue, four deep dish frozen pizzas and a full Winchester update later. Dean stood out on Gemini's well lit landing. Peering into the dim light of Jeff's room. His heart melting a little as he watched Gemini kiss Jeff's little sleep flushed cheek, then pause a moment to look in wonder at the sight of her little boy breathing peacefully. Turning off Jeff's little rocket shaped night light, Gemini turned towards Dean stopping to pick up a stray pair of Jeff's wee socks to add to the washing pile.

 

For a brief moment Dean felt his heart contract; squeezed by a long buried aching need. That briefly masqueraded itself as a desire to know what it would be like to be part of this little family. To have a baby boy of his own; to watch and teach as he grew.  
Ben meant the world to Dean but even if Lisa called right now and declared it was true; Ben was his son. Dean could never have with Ben what Gemini had right now with Jeff, what Lisa had had with Ben. 

Ben, was long passed the stage of needing his hand held to cross the street. To be carried when his legs got tired or to have bedtime stories read to him.

Raising kids wasn't totally new to Dean. He had helped raise a kid before. Fed him, dressed him; helped him learn to brush his own teeth and tie his shoes but he hadn't been much more than a kid himself at the time. The experience had shaped Dean into the man he became, a man that thrived on being needed; on providing and protecting. 

Without the means to for fill that role in his life Dean felt less than worthless. It was all he was ever sure of how to do. To put all his love and determination in. Only now the kid he raised was three inches taller than him, acting strange even by Winchester standards and was currently M.I.A with a giantess called Ivy.

Dean's deepest desire and his actual messed up demon killing reality did not make good bed fellows; the danger of one made him shy away from the creation of the other. He would play 'step daddy' to other people's kids but couldn't risk purposely bringing his own into this stinking world even if to see little fingers wrapped around his own, grasping on to the reality of their first few moments out in the world was something he had considered, something (whether or not he admitted it to himself) he'd hoped for.

To know he helped create something pure and beautiful for once and that that little someone wanted him. Needed his love and protection and didn't just tolerate it out of loyalty.

To have someone other than some big haired hooker in New Orleans call him 'daddy'. He had walked out on that scene and chick before his jacket could even hit the floor because some words should never be bastardised like that, some words were too important and that shit was just creepy.

Dean, watched Gemini back out of Jeff's room on to the landing. Carefully pulling the door closed as she took one last look at her son. Her back to Dean as she left the door ajar, just a crack. 

Sure, Gemini wasn't the hottest chick Dean had ever banged by any stretch of the imagination but there was most definitely a sexy, sassy spark in her that had driven him nuts and driven him wild in equal measure right from the moment they first met; a something special that he could never quite put his finger on and Dean had put his fingers on her plenty. If finger prints lasted a lifetime, Gemini would be covered in layers of Dean's from head to toe. Gemini took no shit. She knew what she wanted and she told you so and although Dean would never admit it to her; that was all kinds of hot in some weird way.

She wasn't without skills in the bedroom department either and Dean had to admit he had a 'hard spot' for those full on curves and that ample rack of hers. Even when almost hidden under her usual combo of jeans and one of her endless array of cotton shirts with their bold ethnic stitch patterns he could memorize every curve; but then, ample cleavage never does stay hidden from the birds eye view of a guy of Dean's towering stature.

Most of all the way she had held him and helped him through his fear in Wheeling proved she had a loyal and caring heart. Gemini saw through his 'bull crap' with those intense blue eyes of hers. Had read his weary condemned soul, dropped her own 'don't mess' guard and offered herself up to help and Dean would be forever grateful she did. 

Gemini also clearly loved her son and to Dean, at that moment; those qualities were a major turn on. She had what his home sick, lonely soul wanted and that made this average looking Joanna from 'Bum fuck nowhere on sea', desirable beyond belief in Dean's whisky soaked soft hearted haze.

Turning towards Dean; taken momentarily by surprise by his close proximity to her. Gemini looked up at him. Slowly following the trail of shirt buttons, up to his stubble peppered chin, up over the cushion of his full and whisky flavoured lips, her vision scaling the tip of his nose before settling on the achingly familiar need and heat that was emanating from his stunning hazel/green eyes. 

Gemini, felt desire tingle her skin in response. Putting her finger to her lips to shush Dean when he started to speak. She hoped taking him by the hand and leading his drunken arse downstairs away from Jeff's door would be enough of a distraction to break the moment.

When they reached the hall and Dean held on when she attempted to pull her hand away Gemini couldn't look back up at him because she knew if she saw that awestruck love making look of his, she wouldn't resist and the sweet pleading sound of Sharleen from 'Texas', singing the opening lines of 'Put your arms around me',coming from the docking station in the living room; wasn't helping. So Gemini avoided his gaze and led Dean through to the living room, deliberately parking him on the couch. 

Letting go of Gemini's hand Dean looked up at her standing before him. Baby socks balled in one fist, her other hand on her hip and he wanted to reach up and guide her down on  
to his lap; run his hands over her body and feel his mouth on hers. 

Gemini wanted it to. So she tried again to break the moment by briskly walking through to the kitchen under the pretence of putting Jeff's socks in the washing pile. She then busied her hands by loading the dishwasher and wiping around the sink.

Dean appeared behind her in the doorway. Gemini jumped as she caught his reflection in the kitchen window. Beyond his spectral shadow on the glass Gemini spotted Ivy's car was missing from the driveway.

“ I take it from the absence of her car, that Ivy and your brother have sneaked off somewhere.”

“Yep, and from the way those two have been sizing each other up all night I'd say there is 

going to be some sweet lovin' made later.”

Dean said smiling, he was now standing behind Gemini leaning on the breakfast bar opposite the sink. Gemini took a deep breath and turned to face him relieved by the little bit of distance.

“ Don't get me wrong Deano, I love Ivy like a sister; too bits but when it comes to men and sex she is a little fucked up....”

“Sammy can handle himself.” Dean retorted drunkenly waving away Gemini's concern.

“ I wouldn't be so sure. ..” Gemini countered her eyes filled with legitimate concern gained from years of experience and worry at her as 'good as a sister's' dysfunctional kinks.

“It all started with her first love. Remember the female hunters who trained me?”  
Dean nodded his faint recognition.

“ Well one of them was Ivy's mum the other her aunt and when she was young, long before I knew them; as well as being a hunter Ivy's mum ran a youth hostel of sorts up on the Isle of Skye and young Ivy helped out in the kitchen. She and this guy met there. It was love at first sight over a hot plate of something or other and he was so entranced he gripped her hand and the plate so tight he broke her finger. Since then she has kind of had this weird need for the association of love and sex with pain.”

Dean pursed his lips looking slightly impressed at the image of the, lets face it; statuesque and supermodel in looks Ivy hand cuffed to the wall and about to be whipped by his softy of a brother. He sniggered drunkenly to himself at the thought then reassured Gemini.

“ If that's the case I wouldn't worry, she'll make short work of a night with Sammy, he would never willingly hurt a chick even if she begged....” the tail end of Dean's sentence drifted off into the distance as he heard the clanking of Ivy's shackles and realised that they were in fact around his own wrists as he saw himself kneeling on a set of carpeted steps in some kind of castle chamber. His arms shackled above his head as Gemini strutted towards him in what could only be described as thigh high 'fuck me' boots, whip in hand.

Sam most definitely had a point when he on a regular basis reminded Dean of the boundaries between real life and porn and Dean's tendency for blurring porn into the other.

Dean was looking intensely at Gemini again. Pushing himself off the counter he walked the few steps towards her, lifting her off her feet and on to the worktop by the sink. Gemini's legs had nowhere else they could go but around Dean's waist just as they had when he'd carried her dripping wet and naked from her motel shower to the bed in Mobile. 

He had been under her musical manipulation then something she hadn't been able to do since the sisters and weans had disappeared on the battlefield taking her supernatural capabilities with them. She could still fight like a warrior, she was still strong and had an encyclopedic knowledge of modern music but she couldn't read the songs or make them do her will any more. So this, right now; was real. Dean stroked his thumb over Gemini's lips gazing intently into her eyes. Gemini let her lips part at Dean's thumbs insistence.

“ But girls like you two aren't the type to beg, are you?... in between these thighs and in those hands it's us who do the begging.” Dean's voice was base with aching as he pressed his body as tightly against Gemini's as clothes would allow. Gemini needed this as much as Dean seemed to; ached for it. The feel of his strong hands stroking her thighs was setting her skin on fire. Dean leaned in to cover her hungry mouth with his and that's when she heard it; a small but strong voice, her own voice, whisper.

“Dean, we can't. You're confused and lonely and this; is the whisky talking.”  
______________________________

5

Mid-July 2011  
The South Ayrshire coast

 

Rab Wilson yawned wide as the Clyde, feeling his weary eyes begin to close as he guided his refrigerated artic down the steep incline of the Bennane. 

Sure this bypass was preferable to the stretch of old coast road that used to lead from Girvan to Ballantrae when it came to safety but he wished he could take on the old twists and turns past 'Snib Scott's' cave and the danger of the 'alleged' historic coastal hideaway of the notorious cannibalistic Alexander 'Sawney' Bean and his in-bred clan, right now. The possible danger would maybe wake him up a bit. 

Grabbing the can of Red Bull from his cup holder on the dash Rab, downed what remained of the concoction and made an unappetising face. The taste of the stuff was mingin' but needs must and his need not to veer off the road because he had dozed off at the wheel of a 32 tonne vehicle loaded to the gunnel’s with frozen food was a definite must.

He wound down the window hoping some fresh air would help and then retuned the pre-sets on the radio to 'Radio 2'. Alex Lester would be on; the self professed 'dark lord' a favourite with night truckers and night shift workers everywhere.

Rab chuckled to himself as Alex's show clicked into signal and what should he be playing but Toto Coelo's 'I eat Cannibals'. Talk about a fitting sound track to the area. 

Rab speed dialled his mate Tam on the hands free to tell him he would be dropping his load at 'the Cairn' on time. So he would be able to give him a lift back into the toon.

Looking up, Rab catches a flash of something a few feet ahead on the road. Thinking it's a deer he checks his mirrors; the road is deserted so he slams on his breaks and puts on his hazard lights hoping that the deer will run on and he won't have to fully stop. 

It's then he realises it's not a deer on the road but a wee lassie in a white nightie. She looks no older than his wee girl; who is nine. The hands free is still ringing out trying to connect with Tam as Rab jumps down from his unit to help the little girl out of the road.

Tam has been stopped at the weighbridge at Castle Kennedy on his way back to the Cairn with a Slough load. He jumps back into his rig cursing the VOSA under his breath; seeing it's Rab calling him, he hits the answer button on his hands free. 

As Tam waits for the answer to connect, he gets ready to bitch to his mate about the crap  
night he's had but when it does connect all Tam hears is the engine running, Alex Lester and slightly distant blood curdling male screams and then the line clicks dead. 

He really hopes it's Rab mucking about or that he has Stevie out on a run with him and he is watching some horror flick on the laptop.

When Tam pulls in at the Cairn, still unable to get hold of Rab on the mobile; he goes straight to the Port Police. An early morning search of the coast road finds Rab's artic abandoned in a lay-by just north of Cairnryan. Rab, is nowhere to be found.  
___________________________

Mid-July 2011  
Dun Scaith Cairnryan Road

Gemini looks out her bedroom window into the dark green of 3am, John Martyn's 'Small Hours' playing on her internal soundtrack. Helping to calm her erratic breathing as she wipes the remaining tears from her swollen eyes. At this time of year the night sky didn't go black but briefly the darkest deepest green; cushioning the few hours between darkness and early summer dawn. 

In the back garden she could make out the out line of the washing line and Jeff's swing. Thanks to the vague light that was coming from somewhere in the little granny flat that belonged to the property. The little studio apartment that Ivy called home. Where Gemini had no doubt Ivy and Sam were currently partaking in some kind of unconventional tryst.

Gemini turned to look wistfully at Dean. Who lay lightly snoring in her bed; out for the count. He looked so peaceful in his drunken dreams. The heavy weight set down from his shoulders to be picked up again when he awoke. His eyelids shielding those sometimes piercing green, sometimes almost hazel peepers of his from the constant glare of imminent danger. 

Even though nothing had happened between them Dean still ended up in her bed. He had confessed he couldn't bare to sleep alone and Gemini believed him. She remembered what he had told her in Wheeling, about how he couldn't stand the emptiness and the silence on the few occasions he hadn't had his brother to share a room with or a woman to share his bed with. Just himself to face alone. 

Gemini remembered the terror in his eyes that night when he woke from a nightmare. some kind of premonition of his time to come in hell. Her heart broke for him his eyes wide, tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath.  
He looked not unlike Jeff when he wakes frightened in the dark. An innocent scared little boy all alone and Gemini did the only thing she could think of and held him. Rocking him. 

Gemini knew all too well the intensity of feelings of fear and sadness the hour before  
dawn could drag out of a soul. She could bluff her way through the day. Years of childhood taunts from the mouths of thoughtless gubby arseholes had shown her how to be broken. Then Scathach and Aife had shown her how to be strong; how a warrior  
woman should be in the face of attack. In the face of fear. 

They taught her that she must not bow, tremble or mourn in the face of her enemy. She had to hold these emotions, use them to fuel the fight, the fire in her belly; till the darkest hour of the soul. The hour before dawn. Then and only then if they hadn't been burnt up in the heat of battle she was allowed to let the embers of her woes and fears wrack her body, ache her heart and stain her cheeks with tears, but the dawn of a new day must find her strong again. 

It wasn't the fear of dying that had seen her wake to pour out the embers of the terrifying news Sam and Dean had brought to her doorstep; it was the thought of being lost to Jeff. Being lost to Ivy to those she loved. She didn't want to be to her baby what her mother had been to her. A face in a photo album and a name; a shadow that hung over her life misunderstood by strangers. Someone she would never get to know even though they had been as close as two humans could ever physically be.

Gemini padded gently back to the bed. Careful not to wake Dean as she slid in against the warmth of his body. Dean shuffled around a little but didn't wake; his arm sliding forward to wrap around Gemini as if on instinct. Gemini knew for a fact Dean would awake in the morning and pretend that tonight didn't happen and that was OK with her. As long as she could have the comfort of his warm body beside her, the reassurance of his arm around her and the steadfast rhythm of his heartbeat under her palm grounding her; just for now. 

Of all the men who had been through Gemini's life Dean would always hold a special place. After all to all intents and purposes he had been her first. Still, Gemini knew he would never love her. There was no one to be her 'one'. Nick had helped her see that, the callous way he had treated her; cheating and then when he found out she was pregnant telling lies to wash his hands of legal obligations. Yes, Nick had firmly nailed the coffin shut on love for Gemini.

In all the years she played vessel for the sisters she had never knowingly been 'the other woman', the sisters had chosen their conquests with great care and a strict criteria. So no matter how much her heart and body might have ached to take Dean up on his drunken offer or how easy it would be to rouse him from sleep right now and have him one last time. 

Now Gemini knew there was a 'Lisa' out there, a 'new favourite' who not only soothed Dean like she had in Wheeling but was also potentially Dean's love, although 'he' wasn't even sure yet; she wasn't going to let him miss the chance to find out. 

She just needed his comfort right now, an echo of that moment of understanding, forever  
between the two of them. That they had found in a motel room in West Virginia.  
____________________________

6

Mid-July 2011  
Ivy's cottage, Cairnryan Road

Radiohead's 'Creep' clicks down onto the turntable of Ivy's Jukebox as Sam washes his hands. He checks out his reflection in her bathroom mirror but he has absolutely no inner appraisal for what looks back at him. Inside he is like a clean swept room. 

No, inner turmoil or diatribe clutters up his thought process. No feelings or emotional hang ups about what he and Ivy had just done. About anything he had seen or done since he found himself lying in 'Stulls Cemetery', some how sprung from hell's cage over a year ago.

When his stomach rumbled he ate. When the sight of a woman gave him an erection and she gave him the offer to use it, he took it. When he needed to 'hit the head' he went. He followed his body and it's physical and chemical responses. Oddly they didn't include a need to sleep. So he didn't.

He learned pretty early on in his return (mostly from his time with the Campbells) that people expected certain reactions from him, so he practised and became pretty adept at faking them by studying others. 

The way others behaved and reacted fascinated him. He knew he wasn't like other people any more but didn't know why or have the capacity to really care. Whatever the job at hand he just got it done; like a military precision machine.

Then moved on to the next thing without casting a backwards thought or glance. Honing himself to do everything in the most logical and efficient way available seemed to be his only M.O. 

Strolling naked back through to Ivy's studio. Sam, surveys the chaos they have created. Feathers ripped out of cushions, broken lamps, smashed up dishes and Ivy momentarily passed out on the bed. She had wanted him to choke her as she climaxed, so he had; just enough to temporarily knock her out.

He didn't see anything wrong with it, if it was what she wanted. He had bit her, slapped her, grazed her flesh with candle flame, punched her in the stomach and used all the objects she had requested in the way she required. Sam's life was all about clear precise direction and Ivy was a woman who knew how to ask clearly for what she wanted.

With nothing else to do till Ivy came too. Sam, wandered over to the bookshelf; crouching down to slide out an old book that had caught his eye while he had been shoving Ivy's face into the ashes of the fire place. Making a mental note while she writhed,  
choked and gasped for more; to ask her about it later. 

Although it looked like a really old journal it had been in the section of shelf filled expressly with lore books. (three spines down from 'The key of Solomon' and surrounded by tomes on the myths and legends of the Celts and Greeks and a fairly old dog eared copy of something called 'The Ulster Cycle') Sam thought it might be some kind of journal that might give him more insight than the 'fluff' pieces on local fairy lore, superstitions and corny stories of the ghosts of the demented and wealthy from bygone eras on the internet had. What had Gemini's half eaten corpse in Dean's dream meant? 

Sliding the little book out from where it nestled on the shelf, Sam stood up then strolled over to the fridge to grab a Coke. Scanning through the journals first pages as he cracks the can open. He wanders over to Ivy's armchair. Sitting down he takes a long drink of his cola and then setting the can neatly on the coaster on the table beside him he begins reading the first entry.


	2. Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever.... some Supernatural Sons of Bitches (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Soulless and Dean, slightly hopeless have finally found Gemini again and the hunt begins to unfold. Sam finds himself on an unexpected but important solo mission As Gemini's dream predicted death seems to be only a small drop in a dark wave of carnage that is brewing. Where will it all lead. When the past comes calling and it's pissed ( angry pissed, not drunk pissed).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd part of the Third instalment of the 'Vessels of Intent' series 'Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever...Some Supernatural Sons of Bitches'. Originally posted on Live Journal, between the end of 2013 and mid 2014 once it was reworked. For other story info see notes on chapters 1 and 2. Hope you are enjoying the series. If you are reading it, thank you for taking the time and comments much appreciated.

Ae Fond Kiss, And then we sever.... some supernatural sons of bitches (Part 2)

By PJ Marshall 

 

7

 

Mid-July 2011   
Aird Kirk Yard, Aird Kirk ,Castle Kennedy

Nicholas 'Nick' Forbes-Foster for the first time in his private schooled, privileged life found himself knee deep in dirt with a shovel in his hand. At least he thought it was his hand as he peered out at the early fingers of light creeping in across a Galloway dawn still unsure how he got here or even where 'here' was. 

Nick had passed out last night in his spacious up market Edinburgh apartment. Coming down from a coked up high. Everything right with his ridiculously wealthy, overindulgent, superficial world. Until what seemed like a few minutes ago when he woke choking from a nightmare or Nick's mind began to race; was this the nightmare? 

Nick tried to call out to someone but there was no sound. He felt himself pat the soil with the shovel before dropping it on to the dark ground and bending down to pick up something long and heavy. Bowing momentarily at the knees as he threw it over his shoulder and re-established his balance. 

Nick was now beginning to hope this was the nightmare because he hadn't consciously participated in any of the actions his body was taking part in. It was as if it was being controlled by someone else. 

Normally when people experienced this level of fear Nick, tried to reason; as his body hauled the heavy object up a small hill towards the distant light of what seemed to be a church. They have chills or feel sweat trickle over their terror sensitized skin but his body felt totally, almost deathly calm. 

This had to be a nightmare? He would wake up soon...Nick hoped trying to ignore the heightened sense of panic that should have made his silent heart race and the silent scream echoing in the back of his mind that couldn't seem to find it's way to his throat, as he found himself walking into the body of the candle lit church.

_______________________________________________________________

8

Mid-July 2011   
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road

The morning after, passed far less awkwardly than both Gemini and Dean had expected; much to their relief. 

When Dean awoke in Gemini's bed from the first deep, cosy sleep of almost eight hours; he had had in as long as he could remember. He was sure 'awkward' would be on the agenda.   
Shuffling through to the kitchen, still wearing last nights clothes, yawning; his hair sticking up in all directions like the straws in a game of 'Kerplunk'. Dean distractedly ran his hand through it as he followed the aroma of bacon cooking. Spurred on by the rumbling of his stomach. He was still wearing last nights clothes, he noted. That had to be a good sign? When Dean opened the kitchen door, Ivy stood with her back to him at the stove cooking what would almost be classed as brunch; seeing as it was just after 10am. 

Sam, sat at the breakfast bar also with his back to Dean his nose stuck firmly in the local news paper. Over the background noise of The Trash-can Sinatras singing 'Weightlifting' and the clanking and sizzling of the frying pans. Dean could hear a child's delighted shrieks coming from the garden as Gemini pushed Jeff on his swing. 

The little blue socks she had held so tightly in her hand last night, as he had tried to will her (to no avail) on to his lap, into his arms and into a frenzied state of mutual undress; were now bobbing gently on the washing line. Surrounded by colourful items of little boy's clothing, bath towels and billowing white bed sheets. Last night; well and truly washed from the memory of their Cotton and Elastane.

Nothing had happened with Gemini? Dean was pretty sure. Looking over at the sink, Dean has a 'morning after' flashback. A flush crept in to taint his cheeks a little as he remembered the intensity of the moment by the sink and then the rest of the night in reverse. 

He was so relieved it hadn't gone any further as he mentally kicked himself for his drunken ass behaviour. He didn't need the guilt of cheating on Lisa to add to the already mile high pile of crap he was currently dealing with. Their situation was difficult enough.

He didn't need yet someone else he cared about looking at him with disappointment in their eyes. Dean cared a lot for Lisa and Ben loved them like family. He wasn't in love with Lisa at first but they were there for each other and Dean was sure deep down somewhere he was beginning to let himself hope; he was falling in love with her and she was growing   
to love him. At least that was how it had felt before Sam came back and any stability he had found in his world had ended up ass over tea kettle again.

Suddenly, the back door swung open and Jeff barrelled into the kitchen. Grabbing everyone's attention, Gemini close behind him was the first to catch sight of Dean in the kitchen doorway. Just as he had been last night. She knew she had to keep things as light and open as possible if she was going to get her heart over this moment of awkwardness. So she looked up at Dean a cheeky smile on her face and said.

“Morning sunshine, welcome back to the land of the living.”  
________________________________________________

9 

 

Mid-July 2011   
The local big brand Supermarket,  
London Road, Stranraer

'Bing Bong' “Could Mary come to the Deli, please. That's Mary to the Deli.” said the disembodied voice with a polite 'Toon' accent as Sam, Dean, Jeff and Gemini made their way around the local supermarket three hours later. 

Jeff flung his hat out the side of his buggy for the fifteenth time since they entered the store; with the slight of hand skill of a tiny ninja. Dean almost stood on it for the fifteenth time and let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes as he plonked the little fisherman's cap back on Jeff's head. Then he crouched down to have a stern word with Jeff about how endless, the whole game was getting. As Gemini stopped in front of the vast wall of cereal options the shop had on offer. Sam wandered off round into the next aisle.

“Look buddy, seriously, enough with the hat already or I'm....”

The stern words Dean had planned for Jeff dried up on his lips as Jeff gave him a wide happy smile. His big innocent baby blues looking out from under the shade of the hat.

“Um well, oh damn, I mean darn it.” Dean winced at himself for cursing in front of Jeff, then smiled at the little boy, shaking his head.

“ I see you also know how to work the 'big baby blues', either it's genetic with you people or your mom's taught you well. Keep it up little buddy, the ladies are gonna love it.” Dean lifts up Jeff's little balled up fist from his lap and gently bumps it with his own. Jeff gave a chuckle wrinkling his nose and showing Dean his perfect little milk teeth. Gemini smiled down at them.   
As she turned back to lift a box of porridge oats off the shelf for Jeff, two middle aged women passed behind her eyeing Gemini suspiciously.

“Aye Agnes, that's her.” One whispered to the other in gossiping tones.

Even with her back to them Gemini can feel their stares and judgement burying into the back of her head. Her shoulders drop momentarily then she did what she always does when the small town, small mind gossips start to get her down. She starts to play Argent's 'Hold your head up' in her mind. At that moment Dean stood up straightening his shirt and jacket looking over at Gemini he notices she looks kind of sad.

“You OK Gemini.” he asks his hand resting on her shoulder.

“Uh, Oh sorry Dean, was running through my shopping list in my head. Which reminds me. Were you not going to be getting some pies?”

Dean's face lit up and he rubbed his hands together looking around excitedly. 

“The bakery is up over there...” Gemini pointed over her shoulder to the right.

“Go on, Jeff and I have a couple of other things to get, we'll get you up there. Sam too if you see him.”

Dean turns to head up the next aisle towards the bakery section.

“ Oh and Dean if tonight you want to call... I don't know, Bobby or even Lisa, maybe? You're more than welcome to use the house phone. I've got a good overseas package so I can call Floyd for any news and make sure he's taking good care of Bonnie.”

“ Thanks, really appreciate it..” Dean said, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes almost shyly at Gemini's mention of Lisa. Giving Gemini a little smile Dean regains his confident swagger as he turns to head toward the promise of pie. Then stops in his tracks. Curious at the mention of a girl he had never heard Gemini mention before. Yet in the same token someone so important her care was Floyd's 'big' responsibility.

“Who's Bonnie??” Asked Dean trying to be cool about it.

“Come on Dean, you've met Bonnie, you mean you're the type of guy who will go for a ride in a girl then just forget all about her.”

Dean started wracking his brain. He really couldn't recall ever being with a chick called Bonnie and he really wished Gemini could be a little less graphic in her description of events, and how did she even know about other women he had been with?? Gemini couldn't help it she started to laugh. Dean looked even more confused and a little annoyed he wasn't getting the joke.

“My Boss 429 you eejit. I dread to think who you thought I was talking about. Poor lassie, away and get your pie.” Gemini shook her head smiling. Looking down she notices Jeff's hat on the floor again and bends down to tuck it into the folds of the buggy's clipped back hood. Recognition finally dawned on Dean's face and he gave a little side smile as he remembered his adventures with Gemini in and against the 'Boss.'

Dean also realised; as he strolled round into the drinks aisle. He was now as excited about the idea of phoning home that night as he was about his imminent purchase of pie. He had been trying not to think about back home too much because of the mess but in doing so he had also cut himself off from Ben and Lisa. At that moment it dawned on Dean just how much he missed them and he grinned to himself at the prospect of hearing Lisa's voice.

Sam stood about halfway up the drinks aisle contemplating the wide choice of whiskies. As Dean approached his brother he took a curious side glance into the shopping basket that idled in Sam's hand and noted it's contents.

Condoms. Looks like Ivy was in for another lucky night. This must be the longest Sam had managed to spend with a chick since Jessica and by some miracle she was still alive. Sam, didn't have much luck with house plants or women in the keeping them alive stakes. He was almost as cursed as Ned from 'Pushing Daisies' in that respect. 

Although Dean teased Sam about it he did truly feel for his brother every time it happened but when you're a hunter out on the road you try to keep the 'chick flick' moments to a minimum. The best way to do that is with, hard drinking and dark humour and when those don't take the sting away you just bury those feelings deep. Till you find a sympathetic woman in some truck stop, town or bar that will help you 'rock' them away and if your Sam then you pray she doesn't turn up on the front page or obituaries soon after.

Mouthwash, a hand held cheese grater and a pack of bulldog clips from the stationary aisle. Dean raised a quizzical eyebrow as he considered what Sam could possibly need the last two items for? Then stopped just behind his brother taking in the wide array of whiskies totally forgetting any previous interest in Sam's basket. 

Sam took a side glance at Dean; staring over his shoulder but neither spoke nor turned to acknowledge Dean was there. Dean squeezed in, in front of Sam. A goofy grin on his face as he grabbed, Glenfiddich, Grouse and Glenmorangie . Clinking them all into his basket. Then back behind Sam, Dean grinned.

“Wine to woo Sammy or at least get some chocolate to go with the whisky; Gemini is gonna catch us up round at the pies, OK? So chop chop.” 

Dean slapped a totally disinterested Sam on the shoulder like they had just shared a great 'bro' moment then took off excitedly in search of pie.

When Dean reaches the bakery up round the top of the aisle he can't believe the array of choice. Pork pies, chicken pies, little fat pies called 'Scotch' pies, 'Steak and Ale' pies, 'Mac and Cheese' pies: a pie called a 'Mince Round' and more fruit, caramel and chocolate pies both full size and individual than you could shake a stick at. He eventually settled on an apple, a cherry, a pack of six, small chocolate caramel ones ( which were technically tarts but hey Dean was no snob when it came to tarts) and a 'Mince Round'. 

As he piles his basket high with pies; trying to balance them securely among the whisky bottles. Dean over hears an interesting conversation between two women. One looked to be in her 30's the other in her 50's. The older woman was dabbing her eyes emotionally with a piece of tissue.

“ Tam said there was no sign of Rab, just his artic left running in a lay-by before the Cairn. Tracy has had to get tablets from the doctor she's too hysterical to even sleep and wee Megan just keeps greetin' for her daddy.” said the older women bursting into sobs as the younger one puts a comforting arm around her shoulder. _______________________________________________________________

10

 

May 2010 

Music: (Bat for Lashes- Glass)

 

If the televisual legend is true and 'Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives'. Then the earth is but a Brilliant. A diamond that when the portals are opened expresses the multi faceted beams of the 'other worlds'. the drifting sands of other lives. 

A gateway not just to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory but to all the lands of myth, legend and supernatural lore; and when Sam Winchester threw down the horsemen's rings and sacrificed himself to the gaping hell mouth, every 'other-world' gateway briefly and succinctly opened wide.

Dropping out beasts and spirits that hung around their portal mouths and sucking in Supernatural beings who gathered around their long hidden gateways. Sucking them back to the lands of their original factory settings. 

The Reason Rufus found an Okami in Billings, Montana and Sam and Dean found themselves fighting against the clock to save Kenosha, Wisconsin, from the tyranny of a blood feasting Lamia; a creature not normally found outside Greece. 

The same brief but powerful force for which an ancient portal lay sleeping on 'The Gallow Hill' the portal that sucked Scathach, Aife and the warrior weans back to their other-world of origin. It could not take Gemini because she was fully human. Her origin of the earth on which they stood but it hay wired her powers and left her unable to control them. Yet not fully without them as she presumed.

All across Scotland and around the globe; previously expelled supernatural evil found itself returned to earth for another go round. One in particular, Auld Nick, a demon with an ego that would shade Gene Simmonds, found himself expelled only miles from his point of departure and with only one thought on his mind. To gather a supernatural army who like him were thirsty for revenge; against those Amazonian sized, Celtic warrior bitches and that jumped up little cow that banished them from the earth. 

When to their glee the creatures heard rumour of the 'Celtic bitches' banishment it was decided it was cause for a good old fashioned 'Gathering', where they were going to roast   
Gemini like a live tortured piggy, eat her, then dance on the ashes of her bones. A warning call to all hunters that they were coming for them next. As they gleefully followed Auld Nick's plan and pledge; to drag Scotland back into supernatural darkness.   
______________________________________________________________

11

“ Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read,

Ilk man and mother's son take heed:

Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd,

Or cutty sarks run in your mind,

Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear,

Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.”

 

The hunter trio accompanied by Stranraer's cutest hat dropper stood in the alley that was a short cut back to Gemini's house and stared at the freshly painted verse that was strewn across the bricks of the off white wall in brazen red paint.

Dean, who was starting to feel the not so faint effects of the afternoon after the bender before, was pretty sure they would have noticed such a blatant bit of script had it been there when they headed to the supermarket less than an hour ago.

“What does it mean Gemini?” Sam asks, scrutinising the words.

“It's a moral, it basically says where ever you read this tale of truth, men and mothers son's take warning. If you think drinking and scantily clad women will bring you happiness, you might find those vices will cost you dearly. Remember what happened to Tam O' Shanter's horse.....” 

Sam looked at Gemini confused, just as Jeff's little fingers slid from his rosy lips, so bored by it all he had dozed off. Dean on the other hand grinned goofily, momentarily pleasantly distracted by the thought of scantily clad women running through his mind. until a big horse took over the screen in his minds eye scaring the ladies away. Then he also looked at Gemini confused and a little disappointed.

“ It's the last verse from one of Robert Burns most famous poems.... 'Tam O'Shanter'?.... His big epic moral tale of drinking and supernatural horror?”Gemini stared at Sam and Dean expectant..

“You guys must have heard of Scotland's greatest export?...” 

Dean made a face that said sure, easy, I know this.

“Sure, of course; whisky... it's effects are travelling all around me as we speak.” Dean said giving a cheeky side smile and then letting out a puff of breath like he might vomit as he points to his head, throat and stomach which had began to throb, burn and swirl in desperate need of 'the hair of the dog that bit them'. Dean looked longingly down at the bags of whisky and pie in his hand. Gemini and Sam stared at Dean distracted by the 'hang dog' look on his face. Gemini shakes her self back to focusing on the conversation at hand. 

“ Admittedly, whisky is a big draw, Deano, but I'm talking about the guy who is the face of Scotland...? Over in the States you're probably most likely to have ran into his work at New Year. He's the guy who wrote the words to 'Auld Lang Syne'.

“ Of course...” Sam cuts in as recognition seemed to dawn on his face.

“Robert Burns, The Bard.”

“That's the very man, Samson.” Gemini smiled at Sam. Sam seemed to smile back.

Dean hated when they did this, got all cosy and intellectual about crap that no sane person gave two shits about in real life. As far as Dean was concerned New Year's eve was just another excuse to get drunk. It's only upside in the past had been that as with 'The unattached drifters Christmas' that was Valentine's Day. The veritable buffet of willing chicks had been bountiful distraction from the possible new levels of supernatural nasty that awaited him with the dawning of a new year.

Gemini could see Dean still had no 'Scooby Doo' (clue) about anything they were saying so she decided to help him along a bit.

“ Have you ever watched 'Two and a Half Men' Dean?....” Dean pouts out his bottom lip and nods his head in a way that states he thinks it's a fairly good show. 

“Yeah, I have.”

“Well, picture Charlie Harper as a not that wealthy Scot's poet in the 1700's instead of as a 20th/21st century jingle writer and that pretty much describes the image of Burns. Minus the other one and a half of course. Just substitute them with a cheated wife, poverty and farming.

Dean nods impressed.

“Sounds like a hell of a guy.” 

Gemini chuckles and nods back in agreement.

“The Calvinists certainly thought so.” 

Dean parts his lips to question what Gemini had meant while Sam took a step closer to the   
wall to inspect the paint work. Smudging some of the wet red substance on to his finger; Sam's voice suddenly cuts in over Dean's.

“Eh guys. This isn't paint; it's blood.

___________________________________

Poor Rab Wilson had been an innocent by-standard. A man in the wrong place at the wrong time who's flesh just happened to fit the Bean's M.O. Thankfully for Rab his death though painful; was a fairly quick one. Once Sawney and his 40 strong, in-bred posse of 'people eaters' got their hands on him. 38 of them had dragged him back to their coastal hideaway. While young Wullie and his son/brother/lover Wee Sannie had commandeered Rab's rig and abandoned it further down country to keep the law off their scent.

The Beans were a special in-breed of nasty, bottom dwelling, twisted fuckers. That would make even Hannibal Lecter look like a wallflower at a people eating party. They usually liked to string up their meals and snack on them slowly. Snapping off limbs while their victims were alive; taking great glee at watching their reactions to the agony of snapping bones and the ripping sound of their own flesh as the skin ripped first followed by the wrenching of sinew, meat veins and muscles. Blood everywhere. Fleshy fibres flapping and slapping loose leaving them to bleed out. The Beans would taunt them; perversely turned on by it all. Devouring the victims flesh before their own eyes, poking them with burning sticks; sometimes raping them.

Their latest pillage was a bit of a rush job. Rab, wasn't so much dinner as art supplies; human finger paints. When the Beans, to their surprise, had found themselves back Scot-side; freed from the murky corners of the monsterdom that they had been condemned to centuries before. At first they had been unsure what to do with themselves. This new world they had returned to was so alien to them. They fled to their cave to recoup and plan their next move. 

Then one summer night Auld Nick had appeared at their camp fire, dressed in a 15 year old Goth for the occasion. He and Sawney had known each other from back in the day. Auld Nick, had departed the Bean camp that evening in smog form; sans Goth. Leaving the terrified youngster to the Bean's mercy and the seed of a plan for the Beans to mull over. 

After that Nick returned weekly always in a tasty meat suit who awoke after Nick's departure to find their own innards as 'Bean dip', their own fingers as, well you get the picture. Auld Nick's oily salesman way of gaining the Bean's support on his crusade and their participation in executing his master plan. Their assignment? To quite literally 'paint the town red'. Well bits of it.

Auld Nick wanted symbols painted to direct the wide assortment of supernatural strange   
he had rallied into town towards the meeting point for the 'Roast Gemini Jamboree' and he wanted to toy a little with the bitch herself by leaving her clues in convenient places. 

Nothing says Party!! to the things that go bump in the night or danger to a hunter like scribblings in human blood. 

Heck, In reality the Beans had no legitimate beef (or should that be long pig) with Gemini they had been sent packing to corners of monsterdom unknown, centuries before she had even been born; but as previously stated these anarchic, evil bastards would do anything for the promise of perverse kicks and a free meal.   
___________________________________________________________

12

Mid-July 2011   
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road

 

Dean sits at the kitchen counter a tumbler of Grouse to his left, a fork in his hand; ready to dive into his painstakingly selected cherry pie with gusto. His hangover being chased away by the three mouthfuls of Grouse he had already consumed. It had been so long since he had wrapped his lips around a mouthful of sweet, buttery pastry goodness or since he'd felt that same sweet, pastry, melt on his tongue. Revealing it's sticky, tart, centre. Allowing him to savour the luscious cherry pieces; rolling them on his tongue as he chewed and swallowed it's sacchariferous remains. Sugar coating all the way down to the happy place in his stomach. 

Dean's mouth was wet in preparation; for the entry of that first hallowed bite. His eyes as wide and round as the pie they feasted on. He was on sensory overload. The excited anticipation that was racing the engine of his taste buds was palpable right through his body. Good pie was like good sex to Dean; and if anyone ever asked him. He'd say they could quote him on that.  
Dean, ran his moist tongue over the cushion of his lips as he felt the reassuring crunch of his fork breaking through the pie crust. Scooping a generous portion he raised it to his eager mouth. He had gotten this glorious forkful of nirvana about half way from it's pie base to his face when the conversation between Sam and Gemini at the other side of the counter interrupted his revere. Causing the fork to stall in mid air.

“ Basically in this bit in the church he is describing the scene. The dead standing round in open coffins each holding a light and then a total desecration of the holy table, bloody...”

Dean stood up, fork still in mid-flight and leaned across the counter. He placed the index finger of his fork free hand against Gemini's lips; shushing her like a horse whisperer. Momentarily confusing her in to silence. Sam just looked on bemused. 

Dean couldn't deny; especially after the discovery of the bloody scribble in the alley, that something sinister was going down in or near Stranraer. He would bet his bottom dollar that this Rab guys disappearance, Gemini being eaten in his dream and the crimson poetic scrawl were all linked some how.   
His gut was telling him so; but his gut was also telling him he needed at least one brief moment of joy and respite before he wandered face first into another great life threatening drama and if getting his bliss means actually getting his pie and savouring eating it for once; then so help him he was having and enjoying this first bite interruption free.  
He raised the fork to his lips opening wide; euphoria bursting through him from the first bite. This was good pie. Dean's eyes rolled back momentarily in appreciation, an orgasmic groan rumbling from his throat. he slid his finger from Gemini's lips and returned to his previous sitting position on the stool. Sam and Gemini stared. 

Gemini had to admit she was a little turned on by the look of pleasure that was fleeting across Dean's handsome features, a series of happy noises drifting from his lips as he chewed open mouthed; totally unabashed in his enjoyment. Dean closed his eyes as he swallowed down that first bite, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Opening them again he dug the fork into the pie for his second bite; raising the fork to his mouth he looked quizzically up at Gemini.

“Sorry Gemini; you were saying...?”

Gemini's mind was a blank. Her pulse racing a little. She grabbed her cup of tea in both hands. Sipping to stall for time while she gathered her thoughts together. Was it her or was it suddenly hot in here? Placing her cup back on the table. Gemini opened her lips to speak but all that came out was a chest heaving breathy sigh as Dean oblivious of his masticating prowess, slid the fork from between his lips as he savoured his second bite.

'Bloody hell!' thought Gemini, 'I forgot how hot he is when he eats.' Gemini's eyes glaze over and she smiles to herself nostalgically. 'especially when he eats.... OK, enough; wise up woman, more important fish right now!' she scolds herself.

Gemini sets her cup resolutely back on the table, determined to get back to the important, life threatening issues at hand. Suddenly a thought dawned on her.   
Sam and Dean stare at Gemini concerned as a look of horror briefly stretches across her face and her skin to their amazement manages to go even paler than the two shades whiter than a milk bottle it was generally.

“It's a message for me ….it's a hunt I worked. My first hunt with S.. Ivy's mum and aunt back in 1995. It was up in Ayrshire at the ruins of Kirk Alloway. Kirk Alloway is the place where the supernatural part of 'Tam O'Shanter' takes place...” Sam nods in agreement, sliding the English translation of the poem over to Dean pointing out the highlighted section describing the chilling and awe inspiring events that allegedly took place in the old ruin. 

“Only there was no Maggie losing her tail at the keystane or Tam getting caught unawares by bogles but there was 'Auld Nick', who is mentioned as the instigator of events in the poem. A coven and a spate of missing men in their 20's....”  
______________________________________

25th of January 1995,   
The Ruins of Alloway Kirk, Alloway, South Ayrshire

The bus driver was slightly concerned as the lone girl who looked barely teenage stepped off his bus in Alloway; giving him a smile and her thanks. It was nearly midnight and no one was there to pick her up from the stop. 

“Is someone coming to get you, lass?” he enquired his conscience bothered by leaving her alone so late.”

“Aye, my granny's coming; she's always a bit late...” The wee girl smiled cheerfully, her dimples easing the drivers concern. 

“I'll not be stuck, if she's not here in 5 minutes the phone box is just there, I'll give her ring.”

The driver nodded finding this explanation and plan eased his worry enough for him to head off conscience placated. From her accent she definitely wasn't an Ayrshire lassie. She had the 'Galloway Irish' twang (A Scots accent with a Northern Irish inflection on some words) of someone from Stranraer. So it was very possible she was up visiting family.   
He gave the youngster a smile and a wave as the hydraulics huffed and the doors swung shut on his bus. Indicating, the driver steered the bus back out on to the road. 

Gemini, waited till the bus was round the bend; well out of sight and then started walking towards the kirk yard. She let out a sigh. She was 15 in three weeks but she knew she looked 12 to most folks. The sooner she turned 17 and could sit her driving test the better. It was crazy, at 16 she could smoke, have sex, get married, but she couldn't drive, or drink at her own wedding till she was 18 or vote till then either. Not that she was bothered about smoking or drinking. Smoking especially was a mug's game.   
She was too busy trying to keep her ju-vie self out of trouble and under the radar of the 'Social' till she was 16, so they wouldn't take her into care. To be bothered with teen rebellion.   
Gemini, knew her dad had been killed by the very thing that he knew would come looking for her. The demon; or whatever it was that killed her mum. Giving Gemini full orphan status. Making her, in the eyes of the law, a minor in need of care. Cause 'can't you see my near 9” foot tall mostly invisible to the mortal eye, warrior goddess guardians?' wasn't going to go down at all well with the folks at Social Services. The very same warrior goddesses were with her now, they had been with her on the bus and they had stood beside her unseen at the bus stop as she talked to the driver. 

Aife, had picked dirt out from behind her nail with a spear head. While Scathach read through a copy of Burns poems she had sneaked out of Gemini's rucksack on the bus as Gemini placated the driver. In reality Gemini was probably the best cared for and protected wean on the face of the planet.

“So you ken the poem?” Scathach asked Gemini as they walked towards the kirk. Stopping   
her momentarily to slide the old book she held back inside Gemini's Unicco rucksack.

“ Aye of course I do. I grew up between Ayrshire and Dumfries. They start shoving Burns down your throat from the minute you can read. I know this is his birthday, I know of his best known works and that the man was also an Excise man, a Farmer and a drunken roving tart.” 

Scathach and Aife nodded in agreement, chuckling to themselves at the 'roving tart' accusation.

“It's all true...” chimed in Aife. 

“ But what they didnae teach ye, in school, wee one; was that Burns was a hunter's chronicler. That's why his social life was so wild and exaggerated it was a smoke screen for his hunting work. 'Tam O'Shanter' is the only one of his 'hunter related writings' to make it into general public consumption and although it's seen as nothing more than a fable, a moral tale; it does contain important supernatural knowledge. An evil spirit cannae cross over the middle of a running body o' water, hence the fact when Nannie reached the bridge's keystane all she could do was make a desperate grab for Maggie's rump as Maggie made a valiant dash to safety. Saving Tam's life at the cost of her own tail. I've only ever held one ither o' Burns hunters books. He and Uathach had a bit o' a thing gaun on back in the day; I'm sure she has it at Dun Scaith somewhere. Burns didnae' write his hunters works under his own name though, He used the pseudonym, John Anderson; like in the poem.”

Gemini looked from sister to sister waiting for one of them to tell her they were just kidding her on. They both remained totally straight faced.

“And another thing...” Scathach said stopping Gemini in her tracks bending down to look her in the eye.

“ The 'Auld Nick', in shape o' beast' Burns describes isnae the devil as everyone supposes. He's a demon high on his own mythology and power but still a dangerous creature and the jumped up little shite who has led us here. Ye, ken they 'Demon Headmaster' books you were so big into reading when your dad left you wi' us?”

Gemini nodded her head in recognition as she looked down at a stone in her path. Kicking it across the road towards the local corner shop; it's windows in complete darkness it's   
only light coming from a small lamp burning in the landing of the flat above. 

Looking up at the lamp in the window Gemini wriggled around uncomfortably inside her hoodie and denim jacket; trying to stave off a shiver from the cold night air and get comfy despite the awkward restrictive feel of the spears around her body like some kind of bizarre corset she wasn't acclimatised to. After all this was Gemini's first proper hunt.   
She found the spears slotted up her sleeves had been easiest to get used to. 

Both Scathach and Aife were clad from head to toe in animal hide; tight bandeau style around their bodies and like leather trousers covering their legs and lady parts. Intricate   
metal works of ancient Celtic artistry covering the places that mattered. Neither held a weapon on their person. There was no need for one as the sisters could conjure weapons to hand at will. Gemini rubbed her nose to still an itch as strands of Scathach's long, flaming red locks flew free; brushing across Gemini's face in the bitter night wind as Scathach bent down towards her. The orange glow from the street light over head accentuating Scathach's sexy wild woman bed head as though it was alight. A blatant contrast to the silky raven and poker straight tresses of Aife.

“Well you ken how he had that persuasive hypno green eye thing going on? Well, so does this wee prick only he does it with his touch.” continued Scathach.

“That's why we're here. We have to scar his spirit so it scars the palms of any vessel he possesses in such a way that it will leave his power impotent.”  
Chimed in Aife stepping forward into the light. Scathach stood back up beside her sister nodding her agreement.

“Which is where you come in wee wummin, that's what that jewelled spear up your sleeve is for. Then Aife and I will chant his hairy arse back to monsterdom which should free the hostages from his spell and then we ward the place from him or any other satanic streak of piss who even contemplates setting up shop here again.”

“You ready?” Aife asks placing her hand on Gemini's shoulder. Gemini sucked a cleansing breath of sharp night air, through her nostrils breathing it out through her mouth in a long puff which clouded by the cold looked like dragon's breath.

“As I'll ever be.” Gemini sighs, checking up her sleeve one last time that the important spear is easily accessible, then the sisters disappear. Going on ahead to scout the scene. Gemini makes her way quickly round the corner, out of sight and into the kirk yard.   
____________________________

Mid- July 2011  
Aird Kirk

Auld Nick took survey of the plan that was coming together nicely around him in the Auld Aird Kirk, His massive ego puffing up like Pilsbury dough. By this time tomorrow night the   
epic shindig would be in full swing. The Beans were due any time now and tonight he'd send them out to arrange the arrival of the 'piece de resistance' of the banquets catering. 

Auld Nick had always been an egotistical braggart; could not help himself. Back in the 1980's 'Yuppie' heyday, when he had possessed a 'Rob Lowe'- esque bastion of music management, on a soul collecting roll of global proportions. Auld Nick had loved nothing better of a long weekend (well any weekend, really) than to throw massive debauched and legendary parties at his Hampshire pile, so he could crow of his demonic achievements. A touch here and a handshake there and the 'Yuppie Elite' and creatures of supernatural, alike were under his charming spell. Too much drink, too many drugs and unknown to the human set, dark magick. Went on for anyone not in the supernatural know at these shindigs to voice concerns about things they thought they saw? Or people they hadn't seen in quite some time.

They all presumed (or liked to tell themselves) that Nick's highly entertaining 'gorefest' tales of sin and slaughter were just a theatrical wheeze. Nick after all was a high end show man. His was some kind of twisted, intellectual humour that none dared question for fear of falling out of favour with the inner circle. The human guests lapped up this supposed high jinx; imagining themselves creatures in some alternative, supernatural being universe. Coming dressed appropriately for the occasion and baying and cheering on cue as Nick regaled them with his tales.   
His favourite of all being the day he triumphantly tracked down, Jacqueline Catherine Van Buren to her Glasgow flat or as she was by then Jackie Cochrane. Van Helsing to his kinds Dracula. 

Nick, was never more animated than when he described how he manipulated his way through her hunters defences, then finding her fortuitously naked and defenceless in the bath, pulled her body under the water as she clawed her finger tips bloody on the walls scrabbling to escape. What Nick never imparted to his audience was that this triumph was in reality also one of his biggest failures.

Nick had believed US Ex pat, Jackie to be the youngest surviving member and only heir to the multi-million Van Buren business fortune. An empire that hid one of the most powerful hunting families in the US. When the powers below finally tracked Jackie; no longer under family protection to Glasgow. They sent Nick on a mission to search and destroy, knowing he could use his persuasive nature to get the job done. 

Nick, being a over cocky son of a bitch dived into his murderous role feet first and with relish but in doing so missed one vital detail. Jackie had given birth to a baby girl only a few short weeks previous and as all who read 'Vessels of Intent' know' that little baby, grew up to be Gemini Jones.

This epic fail would not be the end of Nick's woes where Gemini was concerned. Gemini (or Gemma, as she was then) was taken into hiding by her father (Gregory) after her mothers death. Gregory was useless as a hunter but his research abilities were second to none. Jackie had warned him the 'hunting life' would come searching for Gemma as it had her; probably in her teens.  
So Gregory had hid Gemma away in his home town of Stranraer and spent night and day of her childhood looking for someone who could protect his daughter and train her in the ways he knew he never could. 

That's why at 13 years of age Gemma, found herself on the Isle of Skye. Still reeling from the freshly revealed secrets of her mother's family background and being traded as a 'vessel' to Scathach and Aife the great warrior goddesses of Celtic mythology; in return for their training and protection.

Weeks later, when Nick had arrived on Gregory's cottage doorstep; hand rubbing eager to finish the job he started. He was surprised to find all the salt lines broken and warding scrubbed clean. Strolling on in to the cottage, Nick found Gregory drunk; almost to the point of alcohol poisoning. The emotion numbing actions of a man unable to face himself or the fact he had just sold his 13 year old daughter into supernatural prostitution. The fact his actions were his only option to save her life, scant comfort. Nick ransacked the place searching every scrap of paper for information on Gemma. Coming up empty handed. He burned the cottage to the ground in rage.

Two years passed before Nick heard whisper of Gemma's whereabouts again. Her new name and hunter training. Finally, Gregory's hoarder like obsession with the 'Ulster Cycle' made sense. This time Nick decided to play the long game. To set a trap by creating a hunt and then using his powers on the right people to bring Gemini and her coaches to him. Great in theory, disastrous in practice. Nick's over estimation of his abilities cost him dearly when Gemini scarred his spirit rendering his prolific manipulation powers all but extinct. Then Scathach and Aife sent him 'express delivery' back to hell. Where he faced torture of epic proportions as punishment for his three strikes failure.

Fifteen years is centuries in hell. Nick had, plenty of time to fantasise about what he would do to Gemini and those Celtic whores if he ever escaped; in fact it was those plans for revenge that got him through the unrelenting abuse. 

Now he was topside. Nick had gone from scunnered to livid. The scars, aching and tight on the palms of every vessel he entered, that left him sans the power of easy manipulation were the reminders that fuelled his cold blooded crusade. At the place where his heart should be, Nick was a top class salesman and for him there was more than one way to skin a hunter. ______________________________________ 

13

Mid-July 2011   
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road

Gemini said her goodbyes and hung up her call to Ricardo.

“So who were you calling again?” Dean asked dropping his fork with a tinny, clatter into the foil tray that had previously been bursting with cherry pie. Then leaning back, he rubbed his full belly which was currently 'bursting with cherry pie' as he gave Gemini a quizzical look.

“Ricardo.” Gemini replied scouring through the drawers in the breakfast bar.

“ Ok, I'm confused, Ricardo sounds Italian...” Gemini nodded in agreement. Dean screwed the top off the Grouse, pouring himself another mouthful, shaking his head as understanding failed to dawn for him.

“ How does GJ phoning Rome help us with a potential disaster brewing up in Ayrshire?”

Gemini lifted out a note book and set it on the counter opposite Dean. Climbing back on to her bar stool; she shook her head at him like he was an eejit and began flicking through the books pages.

“ It doesn't. Ricardo lives in Ayr, he's fourth generation Italian-Scots. Under the radar his family are the hunting Moretti's. In layman's world they run one of the most successful home-made ice cream shops in Scotland...” 

“Scotland is full of historically Italian families, some came here as long ago as the late 1800's some around the time of World War I. Life became pretty tough for them during WWII because of what was going on back in their homeland but nowadays rightly or wrongly if you mention Italian-Scots they are usually synonymous with fast food; Pizzeria’s, Ice Cream shops and Chip shops. The best chip shops in Stranraer are run by Italian- Scots families, our best restaurant too.”

Dean nodded along. Drinking and refilling his glass as though he wasn't really listening or interested in Gemini's diatribe until of course the words 'chip shop' cropped up and then Gemini quite literally watched his incredibly cute wolf like ears spring to attention. Gemini smiled; they had always been one of her most favourite of Dean's features, along with those enchanting eyes, the elegant strong hands, the cheeky smile and of course his cowboy strut.

“What?” Dean asked eyeing Gemini's grin suspiciously.

“Nothing.” she said returning to flipping the pages, trying to stifle the afore mentioned grin. 

For a moment, conversation died between them and the ticking of the clock and 'shush' sound of the flicking pages became overwhelming for Dean, leaving him with the vague uneasy feeling he'd just been objectified and he was unsure of his final grade. 

Dean scrapes the feet of his barstool across the kitchen tiles just to bring some new sound to the library like quiet, then he tosses the fork with a clatter into the basin and makes a meal out of squishing up the noisy creaking foil tray before depositing it loudly, into the clanging metal pedal bin.

“So are you gonna tell me what Ricardo said?” Dean asks as he clumps back over to his chair. Gemini has stopped flicking pages and is now scanning down a list.

“Eh of course, He said that on last check Alloway was spotless. Warding in tact but he'd be more than happy to see us and to head out for a reckie, just to be sure. He also made a good point; which is why I'm scannin' this book...” Gemini put her finger under a title and finally looked up at Dean. Holding her finger steady as a marker she spun the book round so it was the right way up for him. Then she slid it over to Dean tapping the words under her finger.

“ Kirk-ma-drine?” said Dean, questioningly. Looking at Gemini for confirmation of pronunciation; as she nodded her approval. These Scot's place names weren't always as simple to say as they seemed. Just ask any international visitor trying to pronounce the name of the not to distant town of Kirkcudbright (pronounced Kirk coo bray). Even Stranraer got word association jumbled by visitors into Stran 'rear' when it's pronunciation was as easily remembered as Stran followed by the sound a lion makes.

“ Ricardo said, that if the message was for me then it might be something taking place closer to home and Kirkmadrine is the nearest rumoured haunted kirk yard. The place is rumoured to have spiritual MOJO that goes back beyond the dark ages.” 

“ So what your saying is; maybe it wouldn't do any harm to scope the joint...?” Dean asked, impressed by the sound of the ancient yard.

“Exactly.” replied Gemini.

“So how did you meet this Ricardo guy anyway?” Dean asked trying not to sound too interested lifting his hand from the page as Gemini closed the book sliding it back into the drawer.

“He's a friend of Ivy's.” Gemini says as she heads through to the living room.

“And by 'friend' you mean ??” Dean asked raising his voice to be heard through the walls.

“Friend.” Gemini's, reply came through slightly muffled as she walked through the living room and hall into the spare room next door to the kitchen.

“Oh”. Dean says to no one, a little surprised and disappointed; giving Gemini's previous tales of Ivy's 'alleged' kinky exploits.   
______________________________________

Mid- July 2011  
Kirkmadrine

Dean yawned so wide he felt like he might turn his own head inside out. He pulled himself tighter inside his canvas jacket. The lack of sleep and pre dawn air was giving him chills and not in a sexy way but nothing a shot and some decent coffee wouldn't fix. 

Dean was jonesing, big style for a good strong brew like they made back home. Gemini had plenty of coffee; it was almost a point of hostess pride for her but it was jars of instant stuff and it just couldn't match up to the hit Dean needed. Although he didn't have the heart to tell her. 

Dean gave a final stretch looking up into the atmosphere where the pale blue of daylight; had began to faze out the dark green of night, he stood from where he had been leaning against the passenger door of Gemini''s Ford. 

“Kirkmadrine, you have been a total bust, not a single supernatural peep; spooky as you look....” Dean sighed, directing his disappointment at his audience of gravestones.

“Thanks for nothing and goodnight.” he mumbled as he fished the keys out of his pocket. Opening the passenger door. Dean went to climb in. Then the distinct lack of steering wheel jogged his memory. Cursing under his breath he slammed the passenger door shut and marched round to the other side of the car.  
_______________________________________

Mid- July 2011  
Ivy's cottage

Sam's, gasping breaths slowly return to their regular rhythm as he rolls off Ivy, on to his back. His skin is slick with an inordinate amount of sweat. Rising carefully from the kitchen floor he steps over to the sink. Grabbing a large glass he turns on the cold tap, filling the glass to the brim. He takes a long drink of the ice cold water, then throws the remainder in Ivy's direction; it sizzles as it hits the flames nearest him. Extinguishing part of the ring of fire they had been having sex inside. Filling the glass again Sam sends another splash towards the flames. Ivy is lying on her side watching him. Her magnificent statuesque limbs already beginning to blister from where in the throws of passion she had let them briefly slide into the flames. Similar blisters forming on her forearms. Their sex had almost quite literally been 'on fire' on more than one hairy occasion during their latest session but the possibility had only seemed to further arouse Ivy. Which was a win win for her and was no big deal far as Sam was concerned. Ivy, eases herself gracefully up from the floor. If the burns are hurting her, she doesn't show it. Strolling over to Sam, she pins his back to the sink. Kissing him long and deep. Sam bites down hard, briefly on her lip as she pulls away. Ivy grins in appreciation.

“ Ivy?” 

“Mmm?” Ivy replies distractedly as she strokes her hands over Sam's warm slick chest.

“ Can I use your car later?”

“Of course, why, where you headed?” 

Sam had to think quick for an excuse he would have to try that puppy dog thing Dean always said he was so good at hopefully it would buy him sometime.

“Well, you see....” Sam said hoping his face was doing what his brain instructed.

“I kind of have a little surprise planned and I have to go pick it up....” Sam said trying to break Ivy's scrutinising gaze by taking small hard bites at her collar bone, her skin tasting like smoke; Sam's hair brushing tortuously against her flesh. His hand stroking it's way up between her thighs for good measure. Ivy let out a breathy sigh.

“And if I tell you where I'm going it will give the surprise away and we wouldn't wanna to do that now would we?” Ivy reached her hand down between their bodies catching Sam by the wrist just as his hand reached the top of her thighs, and looked him straight in the eye.

“ Sam, Sam, Sam. Do I look like I'm zipped up the back? I'm not believing this line you're feeding me for one minute, sunshine. I ken when I'm being buttered up but as long as it doesn't hurt my family, I don't care what it is you're really up to. Be warned though, if you bring my car back even slightly damaged. I'll be taking it out on your arse, with a brush handle and not in a good way. They don't call me 'the terrible one' for nothing.”

Reaching around Sam, Ivy grins at him and grabs the little red fire extinguisher from the work top. Pulling out the pin she blasts the flames. Dousing them till they are completely vanquished. The now empty extinguisher idling in her hand as she strolls off towards the bathroom for a shower. Sam's eyes transfixed on her every move.

Once he's sure Ivy is well ensconced in the confines of the bathroom, her attention well and truly focused on soaping her sweat glistening skin and washing the smoke from her long hair. Sam rearranges the furniture they had moved. Opens all the windows and leaves the door ajar to vent the room. Then picking up his backpack he gets comfy on the sofa; firing up the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. Blindly, Sam rumbles his hand around inside his bag till he finds the little lore book. As it turned out it was an old journal, kind of like his dad's but centuries older. 

This little book. Insightful and fascinating in knowledge of local lore, Galloway's Pagan, past and smuggling history as it was; had however failed to produce an answer to   
Gemini's unfolding drama but Sam had found something else of great interest inside it. Something that if real could be a complete game changer in their quest to conquer evil and giving how geographically messed up monsters were lately; he wouldn't miss out on such a possibility of epic advantage. Sam was also too well aware he could never have too much lore in his bag of tricks. So if they came through whatever this hunt was in one piece; this little journal was going back to the States with him.

The bathroom door clicks open down the hall. Sam shoves the hand that is holding the journal back into his back pack, pretty sure Ivy had just forgotten something and would head back to the shower.

“Oh and another thing...” Ivy shouts from the bathroom.

“See that journal you've half inched off the book shelf, mind and put it back when your done, no sneaking it back to the States with you. It was given into the care of my family by the author while on his death bed; been in the family a long time.” Ivy smirked to herself as she stepped back into the bathroom she knew what was hidden under the journal's bindings and she knew what Burns (John Anderson) had told her; was true.

He had forewarned Ivy (Uathach as she was then) in 1796, on his death bed that a juncture of great peril for the Celtic Isles lay ahead in the distant future. That a man of lesser power but great influence, deceit and ego would rally the forces of supernatural evil to plunder mankind back into fear and darkness; starting with the Scots. Although Burns did not know how event's were to play out he knew which weapon would be needed to defend the nations. He told Uathach the story of the Manx man, William Quirk and the universal, invincible weapon he had been given. Best known by the Manx people as ' The sword of Orion' or the 'Cliwe-ny-Sollys' (sword of light). Quirk's job was to transport the sword to Scotland so when the time was right; someone worthy of the swords power would come along and claim it. 

Someone who would stand completely unshaken in the face of fear in this time of extreme supernatural peril. A strong and worthy sword bearer who would then bestow the weapon upon a warrior of great heart and together these strangers from distant lands would protect the nations. The moment Ivy laid eyes on Sam that first afternoon. She could see he was as soulless as the day was long; during the Summer Solstice in Sweden. A fearless man of unique capabilities, thanks to this missing piece of his humanity. Sam, was the bearer she had been waiting for. Ivy felt it in her very bones, along with another very special kind of tingle. She was also sure that made Dean the 'warrior of heart.'

Burns spent his last hours of life making sure Uathach (Ivy) understood every last piece of information, every vital instruction. How important it was she should be there to guide the players in the story that would unfold but she must never interfere in their quest. They must play their roles as fate had prescribed but as the map keeper their journey would begin with them being brought to her door. 

After Burns death, Uathach had returned to a mostly quiet isolated cottage life and waited. Expecting some traveller through the centuries to wander across the doorstep of her remote home. Many a man did. Some, even stayed a while. Then the 90's came along and with it the return of her mother and aunt. Ivy awoke one Summers morning to find she could once again see the opened gateway to their family fortress, Dun Scaith. That was the day Ivy met her 'soul sister' Gemini. For as a wise man once said; 'family doesn't end with blood'.

If Sam had had the capacity, he might have blushed and looked slightly dumb founded by how Ivy had managed to read his mind but instead he waited for the door clicking closed again then slid his hand back out of his bag. Opening the centuries old book at it's back cover, Sam eases out the piece of parchment he had discovered discreetly hidden inside the folds of it's leather binding. Unfolding the dry and thin as an octogenarians skin, parchment he studies it's faint and time yellowed lines and text. It was a hand drawn map of coastal caves in a place called the Solway Firth. An 'X' highlights a set of caves on the map.

On a previous internet search Sam had discovered the Solway Firth was not far from Stranraer and it was a stretch of water historically notorious for two things. Shifting sands and in the 1700's 'The Galloway Smugglers'. Smuggling ships which would be used to sneak goods free from duty from the Isle of Man past the official ports at Kirkcudbright and Dumfries.   
The coast was made up of a series of caves and bays where the smugglers hid their bounty. Many of these caves were only accessible by sea on the right tide or by difficult to navigate secret entries on land. 

Goods dropped in the bays were taken further in land and hidden by conspiring locals and the clans of ruthless criminals and 'Tinker' families like the notorious Marshall's who made big business from trafficking the contraband in horse teams through the vast, rugged and criminally dangerous terrain of the hills and forests of Galloway. Then beyond where they would be sold in the big cities. 

Sam unfolds a smaller piece of parchment that was folded inside the map. Fine particles of eroded dust are expelled into the air as he opens this smaller note for about the eighteenth time since he found it. There in faint quill script he reads the list again.

125 gallons Brandy, 250 packages of Virginian tobacco, 300lbs of pure salt, 13 gallons of holy oil, 250 barrels of Goofer Dust, 135lb Deil's shoe string, Cliwe-ny-Sollys 

The rest of the page's script had faded so badly Sam could only make out a few words; Isle of Man, What looked like coves and a six letter scribble starting with a B and followed by the name Martha ? He could almost make out a date scribbled on the sheet as 178- something. 

Suddenly the familiarity of the words dawned on him as he flicked back through the little age spotted book which had been penned by a guy called John Anderson, to a section titled 'The Galloway Smugglers'. Sam skips a few pages till he comes to the legend of the 'Bonnie Martha'. He stares blankly at the page. The whole diary was written in 'Scots'. Sam had been determined to read it as it was written for once but had to admit he was beat when it came to trying to understand what half of the words said so just as he had eventually done with every other chapter he took pictures of the pages with his phone and then downloaded them into a translation programme on his lap top.

The gist of the story was this. The Bonnie Martha had been a Manx Wherry ship. A type of ship custom built on the Isle of Man which was usually used by smugglers. These small fast ships were built bow shaped at both the bow and the stern which allowed them to cut quickly through the waters and out run the customs vessels in pursuit. Like most Wherry's 'The Martha' was sailed in the cover of night. 

Unlike most Smugglers vessels; her cargo was special. While she did carry some perfunctory smugglers items in order to appease the criminals and tinker traders on the Solway shore. Martha's real job was to smuggle hunter's contraband, item's that were neither cheap due to heavy customs duties nor geographically readily available. Items like rock salt and Deil's (devil's) shoestring. 

A young Isle of Man native by the name of William Quirk had been bestowed captaincy of the Martha and all that sailed aboard her at the age of barely eighteen. It had caused a huge stir on the isle when this previously penniless young man had commissioned and paid for 'The Martha' in full and on the spot. 

For five years, 'The Martha' was one of the most successful and lucrative Smugglers on the Solway. Witnesses would often testify that when it came to run ins with the authorities she often seemed invincible and invisible, ' The Bonnie Martha' would simply escape from their clutches disappearing in the sea mists. 

Then one Wednesday night, she floundered. Her crew just jumping to safety as a tail wind from nowhere, ran 'The Martha' straight into the mouth of a coastal cave. Where she was smashed to smithereens the forces of impact causing a rock slide that sealed the cave mouth. Late that night William Quirk knocked on John Anderson's (Robert Burns) door. William had discovered through his links with the Hunter community that Burn's excise man’s job was just a smokescreen for his true profession as a Hunter's chronicler. William regaled Rabbie with his story and the location of 'The Martha's' Harbour. He handed him 'Martha's' map and manifest and then walked out the door; off to pursue the good life his accumulated wealth could offer.   
______________________________

 

William's Story

 

Late one woeful Wednesday (because lets face it,it takes something very special to take the woe out of a Wednesday) young William Quirk had taken it upon himself to go out into the sea of his homeland to sit on the 'Creg ny Baih' (the drowning rock) and await his dramatic death.   
He was parent less, penniless and so low on hope if you had measured it on a hope thermometer, William's sheer lack would have caused gravity to smash out of the bottom of the thermometer’s test tube as it tried to pull the mercury down to William's depths.

A heady storm wind began to blow and William took his last deep breath, closed his eyes and waited for the waves to swell and the sea to engulf him. A foreboding shadow dimmed the light behind his eye lids. The seconds passed and the moment of stinging watery impact; never came. William cautiously opened one eye and nearly choked to death at what he saw before him. There on a throne of sea foam and mist sat Manannan Mac y Leirr the 'son of the sea' The first ruler of the Isle of Man and a great and powerful wizard. Manannan had taken pity on the boy who's soul was so broken and offered him a bright and prosperous second chance at life if he would perform a duty for Manannan in return. William tentatively accepted Manannan's offer, then watched with awe as the deity pulled a glowing sword of the purest silver and gold out from the sea foam.

“The sword of Orion?” William asked in breathless wonder and Manannan confirmed it was true. 

“Our bargain shall be thus, young Master Quirk. I shall bestow this sword to your care for five years. In that time, while the sword is in your possession, ye shall be confident to receive more wealth and good fortune than most men shall possess in ten life times. However, as with all opportunities and fortune. These rights shall bring great responsibilities.” William nodded, speechless but he was taking great heed of Manannan's words. Manannan pleased by William's diligent response continued.

“ With the sword in your possession before day's end you will have accumulated more wealth than your young eyes have ever witnessed. Enough to live comfortably for one year. Slack in your vigilant care of the sword and this money and your fortune shall be gone by daybreak. Early morrow morn, you shall take the monies and the sword (concealed on your person) and go straight to the best wherry maker on all the isle and commission a ship who's name is of no consequence to me but must be of heart felt significance to thee....”

Straight away William's thoughts went to his beloved mother, Martha.

“The sword will guide you to the right persons to make up the ship's crew and the right contacts in order to secure the most lucrative import deals. You must be a man honourable   
in all your dealings. Both firm and fair or the sword will rebuke your care and with it so shall go your wealth and your life. Play honourably young William and the sword shall perform wondrous feats on your behalf.” 

William nodded solemnly and Manannan continued.

“Five years from this night you shall pay a rich severance to your crew and set sail for the final time alone. On this eve you must make sure that the sword is listed on your manifest of cargoes. As you approach the Solway coastline you shall remove the sword from your person setting it on the ship's deck. The ship which shall have sailed herself crew less must be left to her own devices. When the time is right you must jump overboard. The ship's papers safe in your possession. The ship shall run herself a ground and be concealed among the caves; the sword still aboard. Her burial a necessity for the future safety of the Celtic isles. For centuries from now a great demonic darkness shall hang over our nations; it's focus first on the Scots. If left undefeated it shall devour our Scots brethren, then capture our nations one by one. Also at this perilous point; our futures saving grace shall arrive in the form of a fearless stranger who will come to our shores from a far off land. The secret passages and cave's mouth shall open to this man alone for it can hear his heart beat steady and thumping as waves against a breaker. Any other imposter shall find no entry. It is this man's quest to free the sword from it's rocky store. This man is a human who has sacrificed possession of his own body, spirit & soul in the fires of hell in order to save man kind. The lack of driving emotion in his nature, forged in him by the deepest flames of hell. Will make the sword powerless in his hands but he shall be it's bearer taking the sword to a warrior of great heart (also a stranger to our shores) who shall feel it's power and use it to defeat this warring evil.”

William's spirit climbed higher and higher as he felt Manannan's words fill his very being with purpose for the first time in a long time. 

“Your final task will be to swim ashore and take word of this legend and the map and manifest to a man who will be known among the secret communities of monster and demon hunters as a prolific chronicler. He shall be the one who shall pen your story for posterity. In his final season of life the chronicler will meet a stranger; a woman of immense stature and profound beauty. She will be the keeper of the legend and a bridge across the ages. For guardianship of the chronicle shall be her family legacy till the sword barer comes to claim his quest.” _____________________________

Finally Sam not only knew where and what he was looking for. He also knew he was the one the legend was waiting for. He had been to hell and back in the name of 'stop the apocalypse, he was pretty sure he had left, sacrificed part of himself in there. Although it didn't really bother him much emotionally in fact he barely thought about it. He clearly still had his body so it was a toss up between his spirit, his soul or both and the 'woman' the tale told of was clearly some ancestor of Ivy's which explained why she had the journal and map and why she was so precious about it. 

There was a knock on the door and Dean stuck his head in just back from his reckie of Kirkmadrine . Not expecting to see his brother lounging around completely in the buff.

“Fucking hell Sammy, if you can't put clothes on can you at least tuck your junk away? Dean says trying to look at Sam in the face only. 

“Kirkmadrine was clean. Did you and Ivy scope out Alloway?”

“ Yep we met up with Ricardo in Ayr and we all headed out, the place was clean as a whistle, warding in tact.”

Dean sighed, still trying not to look at Sam too hard (or too closely might be a better turn of phrase).

“So we're pretty much back where we started, good times.....” Dean sighed rolling his averted eyes in frustration.

“I guess there is nothing else for it but to head over to the house, get some shut eye and try and take another stab at it in the am.” Dean ended his sentence in a yawn and accompanied it with a scratch of his three day stubbled jaw line. As his yawn petered out Dean caught whiff of an odd smell and made a face as though something unpleasant had crawled up his nose and died. 

“ Sammy, was something burning in here?”

“ It was Ivy.” Sam said not really thinking about what was coming out of his mouth, his mind still on the treasure trove of the Martha; Dean looked at him slightly disturbed. Sam tried to laugh off the confusion.

“I mean, I was cooking supper for Ivy and me and I burnt the steaks.” Sam reassured attempting a sheepish, Sam-esque smile and Dean made a face that said he could just about buy the story. Even though his gut wasn't truly convinced but he was too tired too argue. 

Why Sam didn't just explain the nature of his and Ivy's relationship to Dean, Sam didn't know. Well actually he did. He had a head full of memories that belonged to this dewy eyed boyscout who had made huge mistakes based on good intentions and compassion. Sam knew this was the guy; Dean especially expected him to be. Even though the hollow with in him was predisposed to behave like or feel none of those things he, old Sam was renowned for. 'Old Sam's' emotional responses were just faint echoes Sam followed on queue from the sonar of memory. 

Just like his planned excursion for later that day, Sam didn't see how it mattered that Dean need know about it. At least till he discovered whether there was still something there worth knowing about. Dean was more use here helping Gemini fit the pieces together. Having to explain The back story of why Sam was going to the caves and then inevitably Dean wanting to tag along would be more of a hindrance than a help in Sam's mind. 

If the legend was real; this was not a wing man applicable scenario. Sam would work far more efficiently solo. Plus, Sam already knew something wasn't right about the way he was inside since he came back from hell and he knew Dean was suspicious enough about the changed man Sam's return had brought home. One look at the legend and Dean would be bombarding Sam with a million questions that Sam had neither the time or the care to answer. Ivy appeared from the bathroom freshly showered and in long johns (emphasis on the long) and a loose cotton shirt that wouldn't look out of place in Sam's duffel. She and Dean were just about to exchange greetings when the sound of terracotta hitting the patio tiles outside and smashing into smithereens caught all their attention. 

In a split second of the moment Dean was out the door gun in hand. Sam grabbed his jeans and shirt and followed him as Ivy brought up the rear just in time to see what looked like feet disappear in through Jeff's bedroom window. Dean, Sam and Ivy made a rush for the back door which was locked. Dean fished in his shirt pocket for the key Gemini had given him and the brothers and Ivy made their way into the house with speed and stealth. Sam grabbed the rock salt from the kitchen and Dean the bottle of holy water from the hall as back up. While Ivy with the silent skill of a cat burglar practically folded herself in half as she slid open the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Reappearing seconds later with a demon blade and two spears. One of the spears shone the brightest cobalt blue. Lighting up all their faces. Ivy quickly hid it up her sleeve as she handed the demon spear to Sam and the demon blade to Dean who eyed her questioningly but there was no time for chat, and Ivy brought an end to the questioning moment as she closed the cupboard door. Guns, blade and spearheads at the ready they took the stairs. 

Dean winced as his foot hit the creaking floor board at the top of the stairs. The creak and his adrenaline laboured breaths the only sound in an other wise blanket silence. That's when it struck him; why had the pot falling not woken Gemini?

Dean signalled to Sam and Ivy to take Jeff's room while he stepped quickly over to Gemini's door turning the handle and peeking inside. Dean saw a figure stooped over Gemini's bed and heard the sound of someone greedily chewing meat. As a scuffle broke out in Jeff's room the figure was startled knocking a glass bottle off the dresser and allowing Dean to see Gemini lying on the bed out cold, in the faint early fingers of daylight as the figure made a dive for the window. He didn't get any further than sliding it part- way open; as Dean flicked on the light. The creature was shaped like a man but the reflection of his face in the glass was horrifically disfigured. Almost withered and mummified like a man with a 50 year meth habit born out of several generations of inbreeding, the blood around his mouth was Gemini's blood.

Without hesitation Dean shot this mutant man square in the back of the skull and he slumped to the floor with a thud. Jeff began to cry in the room next door. The scuffle and gun shot had woken him. Thankfully his assailant hadn't had a chance to touch him. Although they had escaped back out the open window. Ivy scooped Jeff up cuddling him tight trying to comfort him. As Sam ran through to Gemini's room. Ivy, carried Jeff over to the window so she could close it. As she turned, she felt something on the floor beneath her toes; it felt like crumpled paper.  
________________________________________

14

Mid-July 2011   
The Old Aird Kirk 

 

When wee Aggie arrived back at Aird Kirk without her brother/father, Robert. To say Nick went 'off his head' was an understatement. That was until Aggie clarified Robert was dead.   
As Aggie had escaped out the window and ran 'hell for leather' a gun shot had rang out behind her and she had turned just in time to see Robert's skull and it's innards run down the window pane as he sank to the floor. Although they hadn't got away with the bairn (child); the mither(Gemini) had been taken care of. Injured but not killed as was the plan.

Auld Nick wanted to goad Gemini into action. Robert wasnae fit to squeal on them, not that he would and the final clue to the puzzle had been conveniently dispatched at the scene of the crime. Auld Nick's wrath quickly turned to malevolent excitement. As he signalled to his demon henchmen to release Aggie. The wheels of his plan were in motion. The hunters would come to him and this time; Auld Nick wouldn't miss.  
________________________________________


	3. Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever.... Some Supernatural Sons of Bitches (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From great peril (on Jeff and Gemini's part) suddenly comes great insight that could blow the hunt wide open for Gemini and the Winchesters. But Sam's gone AWOL, Dean is frantic and this hunt may become almost too hot for Dean to handle (get it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third and final part of the 'Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever.... Some Supernatural Sons of Bitches instalment of the 'Vessels of Intent' trilogy. Originally posted on Live Journal between the end of 2013 and Mid 2014. If you are reading along it's much appreciated, thank you! As are any comments. Anyone on here writing knows what a huge lifeline, Inspiration and sometime Saving Grace SPN can be to it's fans and I can honestly say it's brought zeal back to my life and helped me express emotionally and creatively and these stories were the only way I could think to express how important the show is to me and my affection for The Winchester men and their world.

Ae Fond Kiss, And then we sever.... some supernatural sons of bitches 

By PJ Marshall 

 

Mid-July 2011   
Dun Scaith, Cairnryan Road

Dean was drowsily awakened at 05:37; according to the clock on Gemini's bedside table. His first reaction as events of last night flashed back to him was to check on Gemini who lay beside him fast asleep, breathing peacefully despite her ordeal. His second reaction was to curse the douche of a bird that was chirping incessantly and far to cheerily outside the window. Dean had had no more than half an hour of unbroken shut eye but between the stupid chirping and last nights events he was too on edge, too wired to go back to sleep. So he lay on his back, head on the pillow, his dark circled eyes fixed on the ceiling as he considered what had transpired in the aftermath of the attack. 

Dean's heart had been wedged firmly in his mouth until he was able to rouse Gemini from doped up, unconsciousness. She had a nasty flesh wound from where the meth, man, mummy, creature had taken a bite out of her arm. Which Ivy treated using remedies and methods that Sam and Dean hadn't seen before; some kind of ancient herbal medicine. 

While Sam read aloud the article from the local newspaper that Ivy had found screwed up on Jeff's bedroom floor.  
It was a sad tale about how the decline of Christian faith in the area had been exemplified by the closure of Aird Kirk, one of the areas oldest churches which was being refurbished as a premises for a national 'Pub Grub' food chain. The renovation was expected to be finished by the Autumn.

It was then Ivy pointed out and a drowsy Gemini agreed. That this being Glasgow Fair Fortnight, the workers at the renovation would all be on holiday and that the kirk would be empty right now. Which made 'Aird Kirk', the new top location on their suspect premises list. 

Something about the way this info just landed in their lap after so many other dead ends had made Dean's gut instincts uneasy. Not even the warm weight of Jeff sleeping against his chest, as Dean had paced back and forth with him while Ivy played Florence Nightingale to Gemini, had eased the cold knotted gnaw. The same gnaw was still eating at Dean as he lay in the early dawn; piecing last night together. 

As to the origin of the mummified muncher? All fingers might have indecisively pointed at Wendigo, until the bullet to the skull Dean had administered pointed decisively otherwise. Considering the Wendigo illuminating weapon of choice, was flame thrower. 

With the help of some of the very old and very rare books and pictures. Ivy had some how managed to collect over the years. Sam had managed to verify Ivy's hunch that the 'mummy man', was in fact a member of the cannibalistic Bean clan; infamous in local history and legend. Which should have came as a great surprise considering they had been put to death centuries ago. However when you dwell in the world of weird as these four do; things that would often illicit gasps of awe and terror from a lay man make you only quirk a weary questioning eyebrow.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh, then raised himself into a sitting position; placing his feet gingerly on to the floor at his side of the bed. He was trying with every clenched muscle not to wake Gemini. Once out on the landing he opened Jeff's door a crack. Both Jeff and Ivy were still fast asleep. Jeff some how totally comfortable lying with his cheek on the pillow, his knees curled underneath him and his little tush in the air. It made Dean smile and think of Lisa's little niece. 

Dean sighed and made a long over due decision. It was Sunday here but still Saturday night in the US and he knew Lisa stayed up late on Saturday night. So (being sure to avoid the creaky board at the top of the stairs) Dean, crept down to the kitchen, made himself some instant coffee with a shot of Glenmorangie on the side and dialled Lisa's number. 

As he waited for the call to connected Dean looked out at the early morning that promised a blue sky sunny day (because Scotland does get those now and again), at Ivy's little cottage still in darkness and the space on the driveway where Ivy's car should be. Sam had insisted that Dean stay and watch Gemini. When Dean had offered to help him dispense of the monster munchers body. So Dean wasn't too alarmed to see Ivy's car still gone.

“Hello” said the slightly tipsy and a little wary, female voice on the line. Dean could hear the late night talk show audience cheering on a new guest in the background. He pictured the near empty bottle of white wine and half eaten pizza that usually sat on the coffee table of their, living room on a Saturday night in and he smiled like that cheer was for him.

“ Hey Lis,” Dean said holding tight to the receiver as if by doing so he could will himself there beside her, his arm around Lisa as she curled up beside him. His empty beer bottles beside her wine glass. There was a moment's silence as he heard Lisa scrabble for the remote then the volume of the TV go down to nothing more than a distant garble.

“Dean?” Lisa's voice finally broke softly again across the wires. Dean could tell the call and the wine were making Lisa tearful and sentimental and he wanted to hold her more than ever. 

“No, who's this Dean guy?” Dean said trying to bring some humour to the moment. 

“He sounds like an moronic jackass who doesn't call you near enough as you deserve.” Dean smiled as he heard Lisa give a giggle and a sigh.

“Yeah, you don't know the half of it buddy; but he's my moronic jackass.”  
____________________________________ 

Mid-July 2011   
The Solway Caves 

It had been just like the story described when Sam finally completed his journey to the Martha's cave. Fortuitously while Sam and Ivy had been dredging through her collection of lore books, old photo's and articles in order to identify the cannibal corpse. Sam had spotted a land map of the Solway caves. 

If Sam had the slightest inclination to even be bothered with life's big spiritual questions; he might have been thankful to God (wherever he'd run off to) or considered fate was at hand that this document should appear at this very moment but these 'BIG' questions didn't even register on his radar. The spiritual mysteries to Sam were non existent, a big fat zip! On the Sammy meter. There was a map that might help in his quest laying on the table, fact. He picked it up and took it to use, end of story.

As it would turn out the map was the most invaluable piece of info in his arsenal of tricks. Accessing the cave by sea was a non starter so Sam had to take the complex and intricate land route finding himself at one point clinging to his rope by one hand as he tried to shimmy down into a claustrophobic gap between two walls of sheer rock. Pressing the sole of his shoe to the rock face in order to get better leverage. Sam felt the previously solid wall give way as he swung into a dark, damp cavern. The stale air rank with damp and mildew. It's dark secret space rudely invaded by faint yellow beams of sunlight. 

As Sam slide down the rope, his feet touched down on debris. The rotting remains of 'The Martha's' centuries degraded shell. Smashed up barrels spilling out the sludge of their cargo, bottles scattered out of crates. Sam took off his back pack putting it over one shoulder he climbed back up the rope to the ledge that had been created where the wall gave way. Balancing on it he removes his torches and the collapsible shovel from his back pack. Setting the torches on the ledge like spot lights into the cave. He left his back pack on the ledge beside them then shimmied, shovel handle around his wrist back down into the cave and began to dig through the remains.   
____________________________________

Mid-July 2011   
The Old Aird Kirk 

Dean and Gemini take Gemini's car to Aird Kirk, parking it out of sight on a country back road. Then they cover the rest of the short distance on foot up over the fairly new dirt track that had been created by the to-ing and fro-ing of heavy machinery and a wet Spring. They reach the vast adjoining graveyard first which had been closed off to the public during construction; noticing straight away the dead foliage and perfect circles of dead dug up earth around some of the graves. It reminds Dean of that time in Lawrence when he and Sam followed the case of Angela Mason who's body had been dug up by an obsessed friend and used for necromancy. Causing her disrupted spirit to damage the ground. Gemini had also experienced this phenomenon before but it had been caused by a demonic presence and of course they had both experienced their fair share of zombie action.

“ He's gone too far this time, Gemini. When I get my hands on him I am going to kick his giant ass.” Dean was pissed beyond the point of belief with Sam mostly because he didn't know where he had gone. He should have appeared back from dispensing of the cannibal corpse hours ago.” It had only been thanks to Ivy that Dean found out Sam had been planning a trip that day but she couldn't give Dean much of an answer on the, why, when and where of Sam's mystery sojourn. 

Dean felt totally disconnected from his brother or whoever this new stranger who looked like his brother was and that scared the hell out of him. More than he would ever admit.   
This was supposed to be his second chance to prove he was in control, the protector his Dad always told him his worth depended on and Dean just couldn't seem to get a handle on things at all. Everything was just totally off with Sam and he couldn't begin to figure why.

“Look Dean, yeah him pissing off without as much as a 'by your leave' at the crack of dawn, was a shitty move on Sam's part but he's a good bloke, he must have good reason?”

“I tell you what sweetheart, he better have a fucking excellent reason after what happened last night. This thing whatever it is; is breathing right down our necks, now is not the time for any of us to be wandering off without a word. It's just not like him! Nothing about him is right lately. I don't seem to know him any more and damn it! No matter how I try to ignore it, my gut doesn't trust him either.” Dean's expression was just a whirling storm cloud of hurt, anger and frustration. Gemini gave his arm a comforting stroke and squeeze. Her voice taking on a softer tone of genuine concern. She hated to see Dean knotted up like this. 

“Look. You're in no fit state to say anything to him that won't kick off a huge fight right now. Text me his number. I'll try and get a hold of him and if it transpires he is off somewhere being a colossal selfish arsehole, then I'll hold your coat while you 'have at him' but for now we have to give him the benefit of the doubt.” Dean nods his consent in deflated frustration. He was still up to high doe but accepted Gemini's suggestion. He slid his mobile phone from his pocket and forwarded Gemini, Sam's number.  
_____________________________________

Mid-July 2011   
The Solway Caves 

The waters had risen deceptively quickly as Sam dug his way intently, through the sodden, rotten, debris that remained of The Martha. He had ignored their incessant lapping when they had first began to filter through the rocks of the centuries sealed cave mouth. Theirs the only other outside element to breech this rock vault in centuries, until today. 

Sam's foreign presence had been a disturbance to the routine of this ice cold, salty, liquid swell, that it soon adjusted to as it began to claim his form as it had every other object in this cavernous trove. Sam should have also felt a similar disturbance around his person as the freezing waters seeped through the mesh of his tennis shoes, a pair he had gotten many years ago to replace an identical brown set. One of which disappeared down a drain mouth on what could only be described as not one of Sam's better days. Even as the swell rose inch by inch up his calf muscles and then his thighs; weighing heavy on his denim clad legs. Sam dug on. Sure the sword was his to find. Not even a flicker of panic interrupted the steady 'dum, dum' rhythm of his methodically functioning heart.

Soon the wash had swelled the caves liquid levels up to Sam's elbows and as they rose higher and Sam dug lower he found himself abandoning the shovel altogether and diving down into the wreckage like a pearl diver. Determined he would find what he came for.

While under the water Sam heard a vague ringing sound and as he swam forward through the debris it got louder and louder till he was forced to swim to the surface gasping for breath. A man with a soul may have struggled to swim as easily to the surface as Sam did the lack of oxygen and pounding of his panic stricken heart clouding his sense of which way is up. While Sam's just beat methodically on. 

As Sam reached the surface, the waters began to bubble, swirl and foam like a whirl pool. Grabbing the end of his rope Sam hauled his heavy soaking wet body out of the water his muscles bulging and straining at the exertion that his face did not betray even if his soaked jeans and shirt did. As Sam swung around one handed to get a better grip on the cave wall a geyser shot out of the water before him shooting a long object into the air.

With the reflexes of a creature from the wild, Sam caught the object in his free hand and then swung away from the geyser as a second red hot stream of steam shot into the air. Sam threw the object up onto the ledge and then hauled himself up the rock face as a huge rumble erupted behind him and the cave mouth that had been barricaded for centuries gave way. The water and the remains of the Martha all spilling out into the Solway Firth. The empty cave now a wash with glaring sunshine. Sam grabbed his belongings and the object and climbed back onto the clearing above. The sun was shining but Sam decided he needed a fire to dry off. He grabbed some nearby branches, twigs and brush and fumbled in his back pack for a lighter. Coming up empty handed he checked his pockets. He found his lighter in the left front pocket of his wringing wet jeans; the water had completely dampened the flint making it useless. 

Reaching into his front right pocket Sam fished out his cell phone, unwrapping it from the two condoms he had covered it with to keep it water proof. Switching it on the screen blinked to life instantly but the area had no signal. Sam slid his phone into his back pack and lifted out a bottle of water. Taking a slug from the bottle he then poured the rest of it into one of the condoms. Tying it off like a balloon when it was full. Gathering a pile of brush from the kindling he'd assembled. Sam then used the water filled condom to protract the suns ray into a laser like form concentrating their heat on the brush which eventually began to smoulder then ignited. The rest of the kindling followed and slowly at first the fire began to burn.

When it was fully lit Sam crouched down before the fire, picking up the mystery object. It was narrow, several feet long and bound in what looked like centuries of damp and grime and some kind of mummified wrapping. It could either be the sword or just a board from the ship. Sam placed the end of the object into the flames to see what would burn away and sure enough the outer layers vanished into ash; revealing a glint of gold and silver underneath. Sam stuck the revealed tip into the heart of the fire and the flames licked and crept their way up the mummified layers devouring them as they went. When they were done Sam held in his heat protected hand the most impressive and beautifully crafted sword he had ever seen.   
________________________________

Mid-July 2011   
The Old Aird Kirk 

Gemini had hung up the call having left Sam a message still unable to get hold of him. Her mobile was now on silent in her jeans pocket as she and Dean made their way through the cover of trees and up to the window of the kirk. They were just able and no more; to see into the interior through a small clear section of glass on the stained glass window.

“ Oh bloody hell.” Gemini bit out. Turning from the window slouching against the wall in frustration.

“What?” Dean asked raising his eyebrow to highlight the questioning nature of his enquiry. Taking his turn at the window.

“It's like this is your bloody life, in there; a nice jog through the greatest hits of my early hunting career.” Gemini sighed in frustration pushing herself huffily off the wall.

“Oh” said Dean, not in reply to Gemini's answer but at the sight of a scantily clad leggy brunette in a ripped to rags tartan dress.” Gemini squeezed in beside him to peer in through the grimy glass to see who had caught his attention then put a hand on Dean's shoulder in an advisory fashion.

“ Eh, I wouldn't if I was you Dean, that's 'Dirty Diana'..”

Dean quirked his lips like a man preparing to watch his favourite porn. Gemini pursed her lips in a smile that said 'I'm afraid not' and shook her head.

“ She's a siren, the sexually transmitted disease equivalent of Typhoid Mary, only unlike Mary she knows darn well what she's doing. You name it she'd give you it and a few horrific diseases you never dreamed of, in one big, dick rotting, deadly dose.”

Dean swallowed hard fastening up his jacket self consciously trying to tug down it's short hem to protect his junk.

“We ganked her in 1998 and the coven of the Bell witches over there; what the hell! We ganked them in 2003. There are some monsters in there I haven't seen before but a lot of them we ganked years ago. What is going on?? How are they all back topside and together?”

Inside the kirk, the headless piper puts the mouth piece of his pipes to the place where his lips should be, taking the bag under his arm, his fingers on the chanter he begins to skirl as he tunes up. While an assortment of ghouls, witches and demons etc, take a seat at drums made of human skin. The remainder of the human shaped flesh spread over the bone drums like bear skin rugs. Like head to toe people suits; ready off the rack for Halloween. The area of stomach stretched and screwed thin over the drum shells. The innards that used to be held in by these outards lay over in a sloppy, bloody, haphazard pile; their blood dripping onto the floor from the banquet table as Beans and demons alike feasted gleefully. The remainders of Rab Wilson, Johnnie Fitzgerald and two hapless thieves who had came to the kirk hoping to turn some quick coin by stealing the lead off the roof; among them.

The piper stopped as the drummers took their bone sticks in hand and began beating out a rhythm. Gemini recognised it straight away. She was more than a little impressed when the headless piper began skirling the guitar part. The Bean's chanted along through bloody mouthfuls and the group of witches and Diana took up the vocal harmony. 

“No way, they are playing Cozy Powell's 'Dance with the devil'.”

Dean looked blank.

“Cozy Powell?... up there with, John 'Bonzo' Bonham, Moon the Loon, Dave Grohl, Rick Allen and Evelyn Glennie as one of the worlds greatest drummers?”  
Dean made a face that said he was beyond confused, taking a moment to be able to form a sentence with his lips.

“ Evelyn who??”

“ If and when we get out of this have Sam look her up, the wummin, is a percussion genius.” Dean looks at Gemini indignant.

“ I can use the internet you know.” he says crossing his arms across his chest in a sulk.

“ OK then huffy pants, you look her up, look Cozy up too while your at it.”

Dean starts tapping his foot to the tune. Gemini can feel her hips begin to wiggle in a 'Belly Dance' figure of 8 style. Soon Dean finds his hips gyrating too; as they both find themselves dancing involuntarily away from the window and towards the the huge heavy wooden doors at the entrance of the church. 

The huge doors creak open heavily on their old hinges of their own accord. Dean finds himself at Gemini's rear his hands on her hips as they find themselves compelled to dance straight through the doorway and down what was once the aisle towards the heaving throng of the monster mash up.

“ Oh, crap ...” Dean mumbled into Gemini's ear

“I think we've been made.”

“No shit, Sherlock, and in the most affronting way possible.” Gemini mumbles back at Dean craning over her shoulder. As the assorted artists of the ministry of monsterdom watch their embarrassing display of dance. Relief washes over her when Dean finally stops gyrating his crotch against her ass and spins her as they head up the former aisle.

However Gemini's relief is short lived as they find themselves sliding into the stance and steps of 'The Gay Gordons.'

“ Oh for fuck sake..., Gemini says through gritted teeth letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Well that proves what every Scottish primary school child already knows, from years of forced learning. Scottish Country Dancing is evil... Welcome to 'The Gay Gordons', Dean, gay as in happy but fuck knows what the bastard was so cheery about or why he found it necessary to dance like a fanny about it.” Gemini bitched. As they reached the steps of the old pulpit and alter. Just like that the doors swung violently closed, the music ceased and when it did they stopped dancing rooted to the spot.

Gemini couldn't believe her eyes when Nick appeared out from the back room of the church and stood where the pulpit used to be. In fact if Dean had to describe the face she was making it looked like she might have swallowed her own tongue in surprise.

“Nick?” Gemini finally managed to mutter. Recognition dawned on Dean and his wasn't a face of shock at all. If this was the guy Dean thought he was (which would explain Gemini's face) Dean wanted to punch his lights out, after all he had heard.

“ As in Jeff's dad, Nick?” Dean asked through anger gritted teeth. Gemini nodded. 

“ Sorry sweetheart but Nick's not in right now. Well he is but he can't be arsed to come to the phone, which you should be used to by now. He did leave a message though...  
He said, tell that stupid fat bitch who had my bastard child, she was the worst shag I ever had. I had to burn my Egyptian cotton sheets when she left and spent days scrubbing her cheap, slapper scent off me. I hope she and her little bastard curl up and die, Beep!”

“Why you mountain of dicks, I ought to...” Dean strained to move from the spot. If he got his hands on this guy he was going rip him limb from limb.

“Now, now you ought to what Dean?....” Nick said stepping right up into Dean's personal space so they were eye to eye. The muscles in Dean's face twitched in rage but Nick's proximity seemed to be working some spell that left Dean unable to move his body.

“It's easy to play the hero now you know that the wee bastard bairn isn't yours, isn't it? You'd be singing a different tune if you had fathered a wean with this cheap tart. This isn't your fight. Why are you putting yourself in danger for a conniving whore. Shouldn't you be taking a closer look at your brother where he is and what he's up too? There is a little something not right about him lately, a little something missing and you know it.”

“Leave Sam out of this you satanic cunt.”

Gemini looked at Dean momentarily impressed with his correctly vehement use of Scotland's top most hardcore swear word. Nick just laughed in Dean's face the arrogant care free laugh of the disparaging elite.”

“Oh I'll leave your brother out of it, for now anyway but you my Sesame Street reporting friend and your good lady; Miss Piggy here aren't going to be so lucky. Cause I am Nick, Auld Nick and this little bitch here and I have some scores to settle.... Don't we darlin'?” 

Auld Nick said as he moved from Dean. Instead getting right up in Gemini's face holding his scarified palms up before her eyes. Then without warning he raised his arm back and slapped Gemini hard in the face, then seeing he had almost bust her mouth he grabbed her by the jaw and squeezed till the blood blistering under the surface of her bottom lip, painfully mushroomed and burst leaving blood running down Gemini chin. Gemini winced, slightly in pain but refused to give Nick the satisfaction of making her scream. Neither she nor Dean could move and when Dean went to cry out in protest at Nick; he found his voice gone too. His green eyes were wide with rage but his frantically moving lips could say nothing and no matter how he strained; his body would not move.

“That was your calling card on the wall, wasn't it?” Gemini said licking at her bloody lip a move meant to accentuate the look of loathing and defiance that burned in her blue eyes.

“Winner, winner haggis dinner, sweetheart, old Rabbie Burns was more than a drunken womaniser you know. Think about it; drinks too much, womanises, turns up all over the place in random jobs, died young. Like you two are about to. Remind you of anyone standing right beside you?”  
“Burns wasn't a hunter he was a hunters chronicler and the only one dying here today is you, you, bowfin, sulfer reekin' bastard.” Gemini spat back her voice thick with loathing and her own blood.

Nick turned away from Gemini chuckling to himself then turning quickly his face lit with hate he began a relentless assault on her body kicking and punching her; slapping and clawing her face. Only stopping as the psychotic fit that washed over him seemed to pass and he ran a hand through his dishevelled slicked back hair to tidy it. Straightening his tie and cuffs like some kind of gangster. Involuntary tears coursed down Gemini's cheeks but her face remained cold, determined. Saying to Nick when I get out of this you are going to fucking pay. Nick got right up into her face again, His sulphuric breath making her wish she could gag. Meanwhile, the assorted monsterdom sat at their instruments and banquet tables taking the whole show in like it was dinner theatre at Medieval Times. Cheering and booing on queue for the dark side. Dean wished he could move and speak, so he could tell them to 'shut the hell up' but instead he expressed his frustration through his only moving body part and rolled his eyes.

“You've got a lot of big chat for a wee wummin in a bind. It's almost admirable ” Nick said in a low dangerously seductive tone running his tongue over his lips wetting them as he took in the features of Gemini's face. Grabbing her by the hair he assaulted Gemini's mouth with his own sucking the blood hard from her aching lip before clamping down ferociously with his teeth on the throbbing wound. 

“Mmm...” said Nick. 

“Give you your dues Penelope you don't taste half bad, fancy a go Dean? No; scratch that. A good looking guy like you, I bet you've already ate your fill of this grubby little white chocolate box. I did her mother once, she was a right goer that one; couldn't keep still or maybe that was more to do with the fact I was holding her down by the throat in the bath, we had a splashing time. Jackie Van- Buren nee Cochrane. She was supposed to be last in the dynasty of the hunting elite Van-Buren's but little did I know she had spawned this.” Nick said through gritted teeth grabbing Gemini by the hair and dragging her up the steps past the space where the pulpit should have been. Up onto the main stage at the front of the church.

“Didn't she Gemma? Did you know that Dean? As you lay with her, rubbing your hands, lips and body over this manky little liar. Could you feel the dishonesty in her, taste it in your mouth? Her real name is Gemma Louise Cochrane.” Nick slammed Gemini's back hard against the wood panelled wall and all Dean could do was watch as Nick mumbled an incantation under his breath, sliding Gemini up the wall with the raising of his hand. Leaving her hanging there her legs dangling like one of those cat wall clocks that swish their tail with every tick.   
Dean could feel his cellphone vibrate against his ribs from it's place inside his inside jacket pocket but was completely at a loss to do anything about it.

“Don't flatter yourself darlin' that that little bit of lip action was any more than means to subdue and investigate. You should have scarred my tongue when you did my palms cause there is more than one way to skin a jumped up little cow. Now I ken your warriors gift and I ken exactly how I'm gonnae use 'it' to destroy you too. My little music and spirit conduit.”  
_______________________________________

Mid-July 2011   
Dun Scaith Cairnryan Road

When a stinking of smoke but much drier, Sam arrived back at Ivy and Gemini's both the big house and guest house were empty. The front door of Ivy's little cottage had been kicked in. The place ransacked in struggle. The chicken in gravy from Jeff's lunch ran down the wall above the place where his melamine plate lay cracked on the floor. Peas rolled everywhere; leaving little green smooshes in the carpet as Sam walked purposefully over them and the shattered glass and dishes. Righting the up ended furniture that blocked his path as he searched room to room. 

He found a similar scene in the big house. Broken dishes, furniture tipped and splintered. Only in the living room the walls had been strewn with bloody threats of revenge, burning and death. Backed up by the soundtrack of 'Fire' by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, blasting in endless rotation at room shaking decibels. Clearly outlining the purpose of those who had taken Ivy, Jeff, Gemini and his brother and their intentions for Gemini. Sam bent down to retrieve a piece of blood soaked cloth from the floor. As he unfolded it he realised it was Jeff's hat. 

Pulling his cell phone from where he'd re-placed it; his jeans pocket. Sam methodically scrolled through his name list till he reached Dean's number. Strolling over to the stereo he clicked the off switch. Leaning against the book shelf as he waited for the call to connect but all it did was ring a few times then went straight to answer. Sam scrolled through to Dean's other numbers then realised he had left his other phones along with Baby and the rest of their stuff at Bobby's back in the US.

That's when he noticed the dozen missed calls and several messages flashing on his phone. The last of which was from a number he didn't recognise but he played back the message anyway. 

It was Gemini, although Sam could clearly hear Dean putting his two cents worth in, in the background. Sam listened carefully to Gemini's directions and was about to head back out to the car, when a thought occurred to him. Strolling into the hall Sam opened the cupboard under the stairs. 

It looked like any other small cramped oddly shaped under stair cupboard, no sign of weapons anywhere just enough toilet paper to survive the Apocalypse, a vacuum and boxes of; what just looked like junk to Sam. Flicking on the little switch out in the hall the little cupboard was suddenly illuminated by a glaring bare bulb. The area where Ivy had seemed to bring the weapons from was just a blank wall. Sam began feeling around for some kind of latch or handle. Ivy hadn't made any great noise when she had handed Dean and himself their weapons, so there had to be some kind of silent catch. Sam was looking for the Cobalt, The glowing, blue, short hand held spear; Ivy had taken as her weapon the previous night.

As they had 'a quickie' that morning before Sam left on his 'meth man mission'. Ivy, knees at her ears, bull dog clips where she liked them best, the cheese grater on hand and Sam's face between her thighs; had sang like a canary when Sam had used his charm and dexterity to coax her into telling him more about the weapon. 

In between laboured breaths and wanton moans Ivy had disclosed that the Cobalt was an ancient and powerful universal weapon forged in ancient times by. Well, Sam missed that part because Ivy was breathing so heavy and so close to orgasm that her words were completely unintelligible. 

The gist however was this. When it comes to claiming the victories and mastery of the Cobalt, 'knowledge is power'. Only in the hands of a warrior educated to a high degree in the knowledge of Supernatural lore can the weapon be powered and wielded. The more knowledgeable the beholder the brighter the Cobalt burns and the greater its supernatural killing power. Only the wisest lore historian of all would ever be able to take on the deities or ice the big bads using the Cobalt. The perfect weapon for a lore obsessive like Sam Winchester, who's lore education earned him the power to kill all the way up to just short of heaven and hells top brass. A ranking he shared with Ivy. A ranking Gregory Cochrane would also have shared.

Sliding his hand into the top far corner of the cupboard and sliding it down, about mid-way Sam heard a gentle click and the wall seemed to give way as it rotated round to reveal a shelf. The demon knife & demon spear were missing but there, mid shelf, like some aesthetically pleasing artefact sat the Cobalt. Without hesitation Sam reached out and grabbed it. The spear burned bright in his hand. This was the weapon for him, unlike the 'Cliwe -ny – Sollys which was currently hidden in the back seat of Ivy's car. Sam had no doubt in his mind that the sword of light was destined for Dean.  
__________________________________________

15

“Indeed, the Cliwe-ny-Sollys or Sword of Light, was the symbol of the sum of all knowledge and put to flight every ignorance.”   
Y Chadee : The Mammoth book of Celtic Myths & Legends   
– Peter Berresford Ellis

 

“ What a party like this needs is some good music blasting from a good quality sound system and that's exactly what you're gonna be Gemini Jones. I'm gonnae play mega mixes, 'Stars on 45', mash ups, 12” mixes, 'Motown dance party' tracks and the like through you till your eyeballs burst and your ears bleed. I'm even gonnae throw in some 'Jive Bunny.”... Gemini groaned at the prospect, mostly at the prospect of 'Jive Bunny'.

“ Excessive long play song after excessive long play song at full rib rattling volume... till you combust. Then when your cooked through like a microwave dinner were gonnae eat you. Now don't worry, I know what you're thinking, there's not nearly enough meat on your wee hobbit body to feed the crowd but never fear cause were going eat Dean here too.. raw; like salad.” If Dean had had the ability to comment he would have had more than a few choice words for Nick on most of what was going on around him but especially on being compared to a filthy swear word like 'salad'.

“Oh and we have a wee appetiser and a huge slab of pudding coming too. Bring them in lads. ”

Both Dean and Gemini looked truly horrified as a couple of burly looking bouncer demons led Ivy up from below the stage. Jeff clinging tightly to her like a wee Koala. Both had been bound silent and motionless unless instructed to move. Jeff's baby blues were wide with confusion, his little cheeks mottled red with tears. 

Suddenly, a loud rumbling sound starts outside, getting closer and louder. Several foolish party goers move forward to see where the sound is coming from and for them it's a case of curiosity saw the cat get flattened by big mo'fo' tyres. As one of the JCB diggers that had been parked outside bursts through the church doors; right into the midst of the party.  
Through the cloud of dust and stoor, Dean hears Sam shout his name from further back in the now partially demolished church. Suddenly freed from Auld Nick's hold, Dean turns toward the direction of Sam's voice. Everything but Dean, goes into slow motion as Sam hangs out of the cab of the digger and throws something towards his brother. Sam shouts but Dean has no clue what Sam has said because his words are so slow. 

It's then Dean realises the glinting object floating in rotation towards him is a sword. He panics at first at the sight of it but as it gets closer a strange, calm determination washes over him and sure enough the handle of the sword lands perfectly in his hand as if it is drawn to him. 

As he clasps his fingers around it's cold steel handle; Dean disappears. He finds himself in a strange tunnel of light and colour; like he's in a tube made from the Aurora Borealis. He slowly walks forward towards the sound of a distant orchestra being led by violins. He can hear voices all around him that he can't decipher. Suddenly he hears; clear as day, a guitar riff kick in and he knows exactly what to do. Dean finds himself returned to the kirk back at full speed, as the first opening riffs of Queen's 'One Vision' echo around the church's body. Without a moments hesitation, Dean raises the sword above his head gripped tight in both hands and slams its blade hard into the stone floor. As Freddie's vocal comes in with a 'Hey'. Dean instinctively pulls the blade free. A beam of light, like the flare from a cinema projector but ten times the size shoots up from the floor. 

The room begins to quake. As it does another song comes into play this time led by a piano solo and starts to meld with the sound of Queen. This new song becomes stronger and Queen fades out as Heart's 'Allies' takes over dominating the sound in the room and as it does the projector beam grows forming a ring circling the room and what started out as a mix projection of colours starts to come into focus. The music is playing through Gemini but it isn't hurting her as Auld Nick intended.

Some of the supernatural strange in the viewing gallery dive for cover in the commotion. Others dive to arms ready to attack when what is coming arrives. Dirty Diana tries a different tack and sashays up to Dean trying to distract him. Dean backs away unsure what to deal with first; what's going on around him or the lust vortex Diana is bewitching him into. He holds the sword defensively over his crotch but can't look away. Suddenly a panicked 'Bell' witch (Heather the youngest of the sisters) cries out,

“READHEAD WALKING!!” from the far end of the kirk and a collective gasp echo's through what's left of the drafty building as she points frozen in horror. Her face saying 'were all for it now, oh shit! As the colours form into shapes, then into solid giant figures as Scathach, Aife and the weans materialise. 

In an instant the song changes from 'Allies' to 'Redhead Walking' by Beats Happening. Dean doesn't see Scathach emerge behind him as he's too busy trying with all his might to resist Diana. As he backs away, a spear whistles down through the air and embeds itself in Diana's face. A strong female Scots voice seems to boom in stereo from the rafters.

“That's for Virgil you clarty cow.” Diana screams and writhes as the sexy brunette façade she wears becomes covered from head to toe in pus, blisters and boils; her eyes turning red and infected. Her lips, mouth and throat swell and bleed as they become covered in sores and lacerations. Turning Diana into a grotesque monster. Then Phut!! she combusts into a wailing smouldering pile of ash.

Dean stares, blinking for a moment at the ash pile; his mouth dropping open. Then finding a little composure he notices giant figures around the room as he takes in the sight of the warrior weans. His mouth still wide as a water slide, he turns to see where the voice came from. When he reaches his destination he comes face to crotch with the V of a pair of shapely, strong female thighs clad in brown hide. Dean's mouth seems to have forgotten how to close altogether. As his wide eyes scale Scathach's near 9 feet high form, up over her shapely hips, toned torso and ample breasts; all bound in a bandeau of hide and intricate ancient, Celtic metal works. He takes a few blind steps backwards, narrowly missing a step in Diana; so he can properly see the face above the body. 

Milky white skin, dusted lightly with light brown freckles curves up over a regal throat and covers a strong set jaw and a face of truly striking beauty, made even more enchanting by a wise playful smile and eyes as green as Dean's own could be. The whole package topped off by a crowning glory of flaming red hair that blew wild and loose in an array of curls framing her face and spiralling over her shoulders and down her back. Aife looked down at Dean over Scathach's shoulder trying to suppress a smile. Her's a face of epic beauty equal to Scathach's but her hair as straight and ebony black as her sisters was curled and flaming red and her eyes ice blue. Aife chuckles.

“Don't gop laddie, were ye ne'er taught it's rude tae stare?”

Dean had fifteen thoughts fighting for dominance in his mouth at once. Something about the sight of these women was giving him some kind of weird, heady flashback. The air strong with the smell of sex, flashes of multiple hands and mouths on him. His mouth and hands blissfully lost in a pile up of pale tender female flesh, nipples, lips and thighs. Hair of gold, red and ebony, in his hands; stroking across his stomach. It was hot and sweaty and confusing and made Dean think of the last trip he and Sam took to heaven and how Ash had described his visit to the heaven of that guy who wrote the Kama Sutra.

Dean had to focus on the pile of sexually transmitted disease that lay smouldering on the floor beside him in order to not get dragged under by the intoxicating vision. Which made no sense; giving the height of these women but some how seemed vividly real. Dean pushes this ghost of rising sexual heat aside to ask the question that seemed to matter most at that second.

“Ho.. how did you kill her with a spear....?” Dean gestured with the sword down at the pile of now 'dusty Diana'.

“She's a siren, where did you get the fresh dose of her own venom and where the hell did you come from?

“You hold the answer to all those questions right there in yer hot wee hands, Dean. That's no ordinary sword it's the famed weapon of Manx myth and legend 'The Cliwe-ny-Sollys or 'sword of light' also often called the 'Slatt yn Ree', 'Sword of Orion'. It's legend states that when you take it and hold tight to it, no matter what, you will win what you must win; against any odds the sword will make it so. You will be invincible, Diana couldn't have hurt you, unless you allowed it. We believe in you and the power you hold and I threw the spear solid in that faith and the sword made it so . So hows about we quit all this lollygaging around like a fart in a spacesuit and get to kicking some monster arse?” 

“Fair enough.” Dean said his expression mirroring his words as he shook off his awe and confusion and they sprang into action not a moment to soon as the Beans made a crazed dive for Scathach and Aife trying to bite their legs and scale their backs to cover their eyes and disorient them. Dean would have helped but he didn't get a chance when his hand holding the sword, on instinct swung up so that the sword cleared over Dean's head as his fist reached up to his shoulder batting an unwitting Nick straight in the kisser knocking him cold. 

From the look of surprise on Dean's face he was no more clued in about the stealth move he just pulled than Nick was. Turning round to see Nick KO'd on the floor Dean looked mighty impressed by the sword and himself.

“ Awe shhhiii...” 'Thud'. Dean cringed as the music stopped and Gemini slide from the wall suddenly face first onto the dusty thin carpet.

“ Ooff, thanks Dean.” Gemini mumbled without even a hint of sarcasm; spitting out a mouthful of carpet fluff and rubbing her friction scraped cheek. Knocking Nick out had loosened his power.

“That isn't one of the fun ways to carpet burn yer face.” Ivy said thinking out loud amazed that she and Jeff could move and speak. 

Ivy, catches everyone so off guard with her awkward statement; it knocks the demon heavies off their stride long enough for Sam to sneak up behind them and stab them with the Cobalt. 

Which wasn't as easy a journey as it sounds he'd had to spear, sprint, salt and holy water his way through the assortment of strange. Meanwhile the Beans were now has-Beans as Scathach and Aife had crunched snapped and twisted them like pretzels and had now moved on to the Bell witches. Who in no time lay speared on the floor or in the case of Heather who tried to run; speared to the old vestry door like a human suit on a hook. 

All the while the Weans, Sam, Dean and Gemini are busy kicking arse and taking names be they demon, ghost, remnant, witch or miscellaneous other and doing a mighty fine job they were too. The piper had fled the sound of odd squeaks and skirls echoing in his wake. Leaving a face off between the Winchester/warrior camp and a small grouping of hard-nut demons including a now conscious Nick. 

As they circled each other South – 'West Side Story' style. It looked like the demons were done for out sized and out manned but Nick quite literally had another plan up his sleeve as he slid a pewter lidded test tube of something dark red and whispery he had hid up there moments before, out of said sleeve and into the palm of his hand. Cackling as he held it aloft wiggling it tauntingly for all to see.

“Awe fuck” hissed Scathach, as Nick threw the tube down smashing it on the floor. Dean just made out Scathach words as she shouted encouragement.

“ Remember Dean the sword makes you invincible hold tight tae it, yer courage and self confidence and you will succeed.” 

Dean shielded his eyes against a glaring flash of red as the tube shattered on the stone floor red smoke filling the immediate air space and obstructing everything around him as he tried to hold his breath so as not to breath this whirling red tornado in. Dean heard Scathach's words echo in his head and held fast to the sword with a white knuckled grip, crawling along the floor to where he was almost certain an exit was; the handle of the sword getting helpfully hot and cold in his grip until it was so burning hot he almost wished he could drop it. Then he rolled out from the smoke into clean air space again and all heat or sensation there of in his hand soothed and vanished. Dean stood up sword at the ready watching the tornado swirl waiting for the next move in this Quest game he seemed to have found himself in. He couldn't help but think of Dorothy at the start of 'The Wizard of OZ.' 

“Great, all I'm freakin' missing are some ruby pumps and a mutt.” Dean spat out frustrated, eyes rolling, jaw clenched tight like his muscles; ready for the nasty surprise.

Suddenly the red smoke cleared as fast as it descended and Dean couldn't believe his eyes everyone was gone, there were no monsters, no fangs, no blood shed just 100's of bottles of different shapes and sizes sitting grouped on the floor. Dean remained tensed looking around waiting for the other shoe to drop. When moments passed and nothing happened he tentatively ventured forward to get a closer look. Then it dawned on him.

“ I don't need a dog, I need a freakin' chicken this ain't 1939 OZ it's 1985. I guess that makes you Gump in this senario Sammy.” Dean said to all the bottles pretty sure one was his brother but not sure which one.  
_____________________________

In another realm behind the veil but right before Dean's unseeing eyes. Sam gave his brother a single digit salute. 

“I didn't realise Dean was such a huge fan of Dorothy?” Gemini said looking impressed.

“ He's not, well not just Dorothy. Dean is a total cine file, he may not know all the critically acclaimed movies but if he's seen it, he knows it by heart. We grew up in hotels and motels. Spent lots of time just waiting for our dad. As a really little kid Dean would watch the Westerns and war movies dad usually dozed off drunk watching, he wanted to be just like him. Dad's heroes were Dean's heroes. His fascination with movies just grew from there I guess. It was just one of those great ways to escape an uncertain, shitty existence and pass the hours waiting?” 

Gemini nodded, she totally understood where Sam was coming from.

“True. I had music, you read books and Dean was a film nut; the more I think about it the more it totally makes sense. He has a whole Han Solo, meets Clint in the Wild West. Struts like Johnny Castle with a side of Rudy the underdog flung in for good measure; thing going on.”

If this kind of laid back conversing between Sam and Gemini seems a little lax at this juncture in the story it's because there was little else they could do as Scathach holding Auld Nick by the throat choking him while he laughed in her face proved. She kept choking him anyway it felt good. Like squeezing a stress ball but the reality of the bottle spell was this; only one man held the key to their freedom, their lives and their deaths in his hands and that was Dean. The rest were nothing more than couch commentators. Like home viewers of every great sporting event, ever. Their only means of action; hoping, shouting and banging on the screen which was a totally futile waste of energy. As Auld Nick had gleefully explained when they first found themselves in their current state. 

While they were in the bottle spell everyone was powerless, immortal; protected from everything but Dean's decisions and the touch of the sword. Dean tapping a person's bottle with the sword was the only way to turn them back safely. Which makes the whole notion sound colossally stupid on Auld Nick's part but there was method to his madness. If Dean made a false move and broke or opened any of the bottles the person the bottle represented was dead which to Auld Nick and his boys was no big deal they would just dark vapour their way to another vessel but Sam, Jeff, Gemini and other Nick would all be done for and the sisters and weans would be trapped back in the other-world as mere spirits.   
________________________________

Getting right down to floor level with the bottles, keeping a tight grip of the sword in his hand. Dean kept a running dialogue with himself trying to bolster his ever flailing confidence trying to psyche himself with Scathach's words. Feeling like he was drowning in panic and a sea of glass. Dean lay his forehead flat on the floor mumbling to himself; shaking his head in hopelessness. He wasn't kidding anyone, especially not himself that he was feeling anything within ten thousand miles of confident. As everyone he'd cared for in his life but failed to save flashed before his eyes. Dean could feel the pressure and expectation of failure heavy on his chest but he still refused to let go of the sword. A memory from his lock down with Gemini in Wheeling suddenly began to seep into the edges of his minds eye and it restored a flicker to the near extinguished flame of Dean's hope.  
__________________________________

Meanwhile inside the walls of 'camp bottle-dom', things were getting heated between the weans and demons as they relieved their pent up frustration by punching bells out of each other. It was a futile exercise but it felt like they were doing something other than waiting on fate. As was her norm in situations of pain, peril and danger, Ivy was finding the whole affair a total turn on and was making out with Sam like it was the back row of the movies. 

Sam was ever willing and attentive but simultaneously kept an eye on his brother. Letting Ivy put in all the work. After all it was more for her benefit anyway. Aife played wall between Jeff and the snog fest. Biting at her nails, she would have much rather have sharpened her spear heads or something but she was powerless to conjure weaponry under the spells power. Eventually Gemini took pity on Aife and the way she was intensely stubbing her digits and gave her a spear from one of her thigh pockets to play with instead. 

Gemini rocked Jeff on her hip soothing him by singing 'Coulter's Candy' in low volume and gentle tones while he cuddled into her neck sucking his fingers. All the while she was desperately trying to think of a way to communicate with Dean so she could explain what he had to do to free them. Gemini stared right at Dean as he lay on the floor; trying to will him the information with her mind but it was useless. 

In frustration she decided to walk back and forth while she sang to Jeff who was starting to doze off in her arms and that's when she heard something plastic rattle on the floor. It was one of Jeff's Crayola pens. The ones he wasn't supposed to use unsupervised because on his previous escapes with a marker in his pocket he had redecorated the hall walls, Gemini's pillow cases and even had a go at attempting to spruce up next doors cat. 

On seeing the marker on the ground Gemini had an idea. Never did she think she would be so happy to have Jeff, blatantly disobey her. As Dean lifted his head up taking a deep breath and focusing on the bottles something about them struck him. There was some kind of pattern to how they were laid out. The majority of the bottles on the left were not uniform in shape and size but all seemed to be filled with black smoke while the majority on the right were larger and filled with grey mist.

only the little cluster of bottles in the middle looked truly individual. There was a long square bottle with a bronze cap that was completely empty, beside it a taller curvier bottle filled with white mist like the others but this one had a spearhead stabbed through it's lid.

Then over the far side of the small grouping a large round, clear glass bottle filled with mist at the top but also a bright red flame in it's base stood beside a smaller triangular bottle filled with dark red smoke. Then closest to Dean stood a large black glass bottle with a silver lid and what looked like a horse and chariot painted on it and just to it's left a small gold topped bottle filled with an innocent white light (like sunshine) and that's when he spotted it, the little gold bottle; bigger than the bottle of sunshine and identical to the one from Wheeling; the one on the top of the chest of drawers at Gemini's house. Dean moved closer to get a better look at these individual bottles. Looking back at the gold bottle Dean notices words appearing on the glass 

“Pop? STOP. smash? STOP. TAP to open.” Dean read aloud. As he leaned forward to pick up the little gold bottle he accidentally knocked over the bronze capped bottle with his elbow causing a hairline crack in it's glass as it hit the stone floor.  
_______________________________________

Inside Bottle-dom, Sam cried out in pain and began to bleed as though some one had slashed a flesh tear the length of his leg. Ivy ripped Sam's shirt off and she set to work trying to stem the flow. All boredom, fighting and singing stopped as things suddenly became very real and very serious. 

Gemini watched, as Dean lifted her bottle and quickly passed Jeff to Aife fearful that whatever Dean's next move was would cause her to drop her son on the hard stone floor. Gemini found herself being drawn right up to the edge of the veil as she willed Dean to trust his instincts and the sword. The rest of the group noticing for the first time the words Aife had written on the front of Gemini's shirt in dark blue Crayola. It was working; Dean was reading the message aloud.  
_________________________________________

“Pop? STOP. smash? STOP. TAP to open.” Dean said a sense of command filling him from head to toe as the sword vibrated in his hand. His gut instinct was telling him to tap the bottle with the sword so Dean set the gold bottle before him and kneeling; his haunches resting on his calves and heels he brought the sword down gently tapping the lid. 

Nothing seemed to happen and Dean's confidence in his ability began to waver again. So he raised his thighs into a full kneeling position in order to get more height and leverage. Raising the sword higher, ready to slam it blade edge down on the bottle. 

Grabbing the blade in both hands Dean took a leaf out of the book of Mr Miyagi and closed his eyes to center himself ready to slam the blade with precision. At that moment a strong wind blew in his face and he sneaked a peek through one eye as he felt hands death grip round his wrists.

“Hey, hold up there a minute Madmartigan, before you leave me sans an ear or worse put a bloody hole in my favourite hoodie.”Gemini said smiling down at him.

“We need tae formulate some kind of plan and snappy; Sam's been wounded.

Gemini explained the bottle spell to Dean and then he set about picking out the bottles of Sam, Jeff, Scathach, Aife and Ivy.

Once the gang were back together and it was clear Sam's wound was well taken care of that left only the demons and the weans to deal with. The easy answer being to tap all the grey mist bottles which Scathach was sure represented the Celtic mists of time and to destroy the dark smoke ones in the hope that a mass exorcism would send the demons back to hell. The only major downside being that by smashing the bottles that would kill all the possession victims too including Nick and although Gemini was well aware that he was a completely selfish bastard she knew she could never look Jeff in the eye again in good conscience if she stood by and let Nick be purposefully killed. 

First things first, Dean decided to start by freeing the weans after all there were hundreds of them it was going to be a long process if only there was a quicker way? Dean had really began to believe in the sword and it's capabilities and his own when it was in his hands so he closed his eyes took a deep breath and waited for an answer and that's when it came to him, he didn't have to free the spirits from each and every individual bottle he just had to get Auld Nick out of Nick's cocktail and the rest would be freed. This would also make it much easier to exorcise the demons but the big question remained how to get Auld Nick out?

“I can't pop him or drop him; so how the hell do I stop him?” Dean asked his own reflection in the blade as he held the sword before him like He-Man. He was looking at himself but he was talking to and putting his faith in the blade. Lifting it high above him the others look on in awe as Dean begins to speak in ancient tongues. Scathach, Aife and Ivy kneel in worship and where it's called for chant in reply to Dean's words. Dean has no clue what he is saying but he knows with every fibre of his being the words are true and correct. He lowers the blade and inserts it's tip into the almost invisible gap between the rim on the bottle's neck and the bottom of the cap, of the bottle he is sure represents Nick. Then lets his head roll back, closing his eyes almost in a trance as he begins to speak in tongues again. When he completes what the sword has urged him to say; Dean looks down and finds Nick on his knees before him the sword tip in his mouth holding his tongue down like a compressor. Nick's feet and hands are bound behind him by a pewter thread so fine it looks like it could have been spun by Robert the Bruce's spider. 

Gemini and Sam look around in awe as every demon vessel and every warrior wean has been returned to their living form the weans kneeling like Scathach, Aife and Ivy, the demons bound like Nick, each demon has a spectral version of Dean before them a phantom blade on their tongue.

“Let the healthy vessels of earth remain unbroken and the sources of darkness within be expelled to ash; their existence void in any and every realm. Said every Dean as a storm wind is heard rustling from the back of the kirk and before anyone can run for cover 80 mph winds gust into the church like a coastal winter storm fit for Stranraer in November has blown in to fill the crumbling building while the world outside remains in July.

 

Suddenly demon after demon explodes; issuing a succession of bangs like someone has set off a chain of giant pop caps. Each leaving a black mist like soot that disappears almost instantly and a smouldering pile of ash. Sadly not a single one of their vessels remain a sad indictment of something the demon Ruby had once told Dean. Demons ride their vessels hard and put them away wet; it was probably much better none survived after what their bodies would have been through. The spectral Deans vanish as their charges expire one by one; till only Nick and real Dean remain. Dean's eyes have turned to swirling green storm clouds, he is as still and focused on Nick as a statue. Sam and Gemini have crawled to an alcove Gemini tries to form a shield around Jeff from the storm, Sam follows suit. All they can do is watch the scene before them unfold. A huge dark grey threatening cloud appears at the back of the kirk and they can hear the sound of approaching thundering hooves. Auld Nick starts to drift out of Nick's mouth in small puffs at first but then in billowing black smog. It sounds almost like he wails in terror as the grey cloud forms into a galloping grey horse. 

When this magnificent steed reaches Nick and Dean it rears up, it's front hooves in the air. The horse opens it's mouth wide and Auld Nick is sucked deep into the horses body. Then quick as it arrived the huge spectral beast turns with a snort, and a wave of it's mane, then gallops off; letting all bear witness to a stump where it's tail should have been. Then it too explodes with a thunderous crack. Back into a cloud of grey then disappears. As though it had never been and the storm ceases. Gemini and Sam looked at each other. Gemini's face a picture of awe and they simultaneously whisper.

“Maggie!?”

Dean collapses to the stone floor. The sword falling from his grip; had turned to metallic liquid before it hit the ground melting out of existence on impact. Sam, Jeff and Gemini are at his side in an instant. Dean had done his fair share of recreational drugs in his reckless youth but no trip he had ever been on compared to what just happened. He sat up momentarily stunned. Completely unscathed but for once in his smart mouthed life, speechless.  
______________________________

16

Wheeling, WV,  
Oct 31st 2007, 02:43 am

Dean awoke with a start in the pitch black of Gemini's motel room almost sure that the agonising scream he had let out in his nightmare had transferred to the real world as the residue of it's echoes drifted around him in the darkness. His heart racing his body soaked in sweat; tears streaming down his face. Snatches of images of the nightmare hitting his minds eye full force even as he stared into the dark. Watching his mom burn, his dad roast in hell, his Sammy die; life going out in his eyes, his mouth aghast his body heavy in Dean's helpless arms. Then Dean saw himself in literal gut wrenching agony trussed up on hooks as the three people he loved and agonised most for in the world, His mom, dad and brother proceeded to rip his guts out with their bare hands. Demon possessed and feasting on Dean's entrails. 

Dean was paralysed in terror at the sight that had seemed so real but above all the nightmare left him feeling worthless and alone. Like the failure he was always secretly sure he was. The gnawing in his gut was unjustified guilt. Dean's screwed up conscience taunting him with whispers of 'It's too late. You're going to die, you failed them all, you failed the world, you're a useless bastard, a worthless little man, a loser. 

Dean curls up into himself his hands go to his scalp, his fingers running into his hair like he's trying to hold his sanity in place by gripping tight to the roots of it's barely graspable strands. The silent tears that stream down his face from the wide eyes of a well hidden, scared little boy are punctuated by his fearful gasping breaths. Barely audible at first and then clear as a beam of light cutting through his dark soul; Dean hears one perfect sweet, soul salving note echo from somewhere in the darkness; it's almost angelic, healing in it's purity. He feels the bed shift as someone moves to his left then he hears Gemini's voice in the darkness as he feels her hands stroke his shoulders. Her faint shadow before him as he feels her knees come to rest either side of his lap. The smell of cherry blossom on her skin and it's emanating body heat grounding him in a way holding his own hair roots was miserably failing too. Then he feels her breath, warm and gentle on his cheek as her lips kiss his tears. Gemini's features becoming clearer before him in the darkness as Dean's eyes adjust and the nightmare fades.

The pure note drifts into a reassuring sonar sound, like heart beat then Sheryl Crow's voice as she sings the opening lines of 'I shall believe'. Gemini slides her fingers into Dean's, coaxing them from his aching scalp. Her eyes barely visible in the dark are locked into his in a gentle trusting gaze. Then in a motion as fluid and comforting as the feel of warm honey sliding over aching, hungry lips; Gemini's arms are tight around Dean, his arms wrap around Gemini like a babe to it's mother as she absorbs his wracking sobs into the heat of her soft body, soothingly stroking Dean's strong back.

“ Shh love, come here, it's all right, I've got you.”

Years later, even after Dean had been to hell and came out the other side, he still wouldn't tell what happened that night because it was a moment in time only between him and Gemini and what happened in Gemini's motel in Wheeling, stays in room 23c. But, if it's walls could talk; they would be blabbing to Penthouse about all bar one intimate fact. Dean surrendered to Gemini that night. He wept in her arms. Let her voice and touch comfort and caress his weary condemned soul and when his emotions bottomed out he leaned on her shoulder exhausted; as she guided him to the bathroom. Gemini stripped off his sweat soaked clothes and they gently scrubbed his body and washed his hair. Then naked as the day they were born they curled up together. Dean's body wrapped around Gemini's, holding her tight like a child might a soft comforting teddy bear.

When they awoke later that morning; the whole nightmare affair neutralised for now to nothing more pressing than that slightly unpleasant dry mouth taste you wake up with. It wasn't discussed again but Dean would be forever grateful. It was that dry mouth taste that caused Gemini; when she awoke to find Dean stroking her hair and watching her. To smile, kiss his fingers and then climb out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

When she finished rinsing her mouth, Gemini looked up at her reflection to find Dean standing behind her still naked and looking at her with those intense searching eyes. He looked at her like she was beautiful, his gaze un-wavering in a way no man ever really had before as his eyes feasted unabashed on her every detail, liking what they saw.

It made Gemini feel shy but thrilled as she looked down breaking his intense gaze her cheeks flushing. She felt Dean's fingers curl under her chin as he gently raised her head and her gaze back up into the mirror's reflection. His hands slid down her shoulders settling at her waist as he leaned in to kiss her neck.

“I want you to see ,what I see, when I'm inside you...” Dean whispered his voice gruff with determined heat, his hands stroking Gemini's skin. His body clearly aroused. Gemini closed her eyes momentarily caught up in the feel of Dean's fingers warm on her skin she leaned back into him, then thought better of it and tried to regain control over herself, her arousal and the situation. 

As she opened her lips to speak, to break this intense focus on her, Dean's hand left Gemini's body and he pressed his index finger to her partially parted in protest lips. Dean chuckled lightly rolling his eyes. His lips quirking into one of his handsome smiles.

“For once in your life woman, can you shut your pie hole and just let the moment be.”

The tip of Gemini's tongue snaked through her lips, stroking the pad of Dean's finger for a moment before she sucked his long digit into her mouth. Dean's breathing became ragged as he recalled her using those lips and that tongue on his other parts and his smile slid into an aroused mumble as he dug his teeth into the cushion of his full lower lip. 

Dean's green eyes burned bright with arousal in the mirror's reflection. As he released his lip from his teeth tracing it's outline with his tongue in anticipation. Gemini let his finger slide from her lips and leaned forward granting Dean the access to her body he achingly desired. That she also achingly desired. That awe struck gaze of his accompanied Dean's fingers as they stroked down Gemini's back. Then her intense blue gaze returned abruptly to the mirror.

“Be warned Winchester, if a single 'good girl' leaves those lips, I will hand you your nut sack as earrings, you get mmmmmaaahhh....”

Gemini's last word disappeared into a breathy indecipherable sigh as Dean spread his fingers wide taking firm hold of her hips as he slid into her a triumphant grin on his lips. Neither of them able to utter much above breathy grunts, squeaks and moans after that but Dean stuck to his word making Gemini hold his gaze as the music emanating from the docking station tripped from Springsteen's 'I'm on fire' into Sophie B Hawkins 'Damn, I wish I was your lover'.  
_____________________________________

17

Mid-July 2011   
The Old Aird Kirk 

“So let me get this straight Aife is Ivy's mom, and she and Scathach are Celtic warrior goddesses?” Dean shook his head totally bewildered as he tried to wrap it around this new revelation.

“No....” Gemini replied as they strolled as best they could away from what remained of Aird Kirk. She was emotionally wrecked and aching all over but adrenaline was keeping her going for now. She and Dean stopped as they reached the gravel path. 

Dean reached up to touch Gemini's poor bruised and battered face but was distracted by Jeff, who took Dean's out stretched arm as an excuse to climb out of his mum's embrace into Dean's instead. Dean was so relieved that the little guy was safe and practically unscathed that he didn't hesitate and scooped him up willingly. Gemini smiled painfully relieved that everyone was safe as she watched her two favourite blokes together. Then turning to look over her shoulder, she saw the rest of their crew. Sam with Ivy, the sisters and the weans all around them. 

“Scathach is Ivy's mum, Aife's her aunt. They are the women my dad went on an obsessive quest to find during my childhood, so they could train and protect me. Dean I've...”

“So hold on a second.” Dean interrupted a big grin on his face as something dawned on him.”

“ So how old is Ivy?...” Dean tried to suppress a chuckle as he already began to work out an estimation in his head.

“Centuries but Dean I...” Dean began to laugh so hard Jeff was practically jiggling.

“Ah hee hee, even when picking hot chicks Sammy never gets it right... “ Dean was laughing so hard he had to stop to grasp breath but it had been so long since he had laughed good and hard it felt fantastic. Gemini rolled her eyes and smiled shaking her head. If only Dean knew the truth he might not find it all so funny.

“You're going to rib him to death with Cougar jokes all the way home; aren't you?” 

“ You bet your sweet well rounded ass I am. Ancient cougar jokes.” Gemini gave Dean a smile and a look that said “what you like?' Then playfully attempted to elbow him in the ribs but her heart was only half in it due to the ache in her ribs and he easily dodged out of her reach. Jeff chuckling like crazy in Dean's arms. It wasn't that his wee mind had forgotten what he and Ivy had gone through, more that his little emotions weren't sure how to process it yet. So while he was safe with his mummy and Dean and they were laughing he laughed too.

As they calmed down again Gemini took one last attempt at trying to tell Dean the whole truth.

“Dean I have...”

Sam, Ivy and the sisters were now over on Dean and Gemini's right; a little further down the path as the warrior weans filed away from the Kirk and stood in groups over on the nearby grass. Scathach had began a roll call. Each warrior wean disappearing from sight once they had answered her call. There were only about 40 or so of the weans left as the last of the members filtered past. Gemini was once again interrupted in her efforts to come clean with Dean when an angry voice cried out from the back of the group it was Nick, disoriented, angry and a little frightened now he was sans 'Auld Nick' his out cry causing his aching throat to break into a coughing fit.

“What the fuck Gemini, yer draggin' my son up like this...”

“You're.... ssss, ggggrrrr, why you.”Gemini was so spitting mad at Nick's audacity that she could literally chew on the rage and torrent of abuse that filled her mouth ready to be unleashed on him while she punched him in the throat but Dean, still by her side. Jeff safe in his arms got there first.

“ Wow, you really are a colossal self absorbed dick. When have you ever been a father to this kid, where were you when she really needed you. Oh yeah that's right..”

Dean signals to Sam to put his hands over Jeff's ears Sam rolls his eyes and shuffles forward grudgingly but complies.

“Fucking scanky hostesses out of your gored on coke you are a pathetic ass hole not fit to kiss her fucking feet.” Jeff looked up at Dean his innocent eyes wide Sam's hands over his ears and smiled..

“Hi Hi Dee-n” he said smiling. Dean smiled down ruffling Jeff's hair, he lifted Sam's fingers so Jeff could hear him reply.

“Hey there little man.”

Just like that, the rage in Gemini dissolved as she looked around at her friends, her heroes. Ivy her sister; who had been strong by her side since they discovered Jeff was to become a twinkle in the universe. Scathach, Aife and the weans all around them. Her true family. Sam who although not quite his adorable self of late had still saved the day with his quick thinking. Her wee Jeff who she noted was going to have to stop watching those stupid 'Waybaloos' before he started speaking like them completely and Dean. 

How could she even begin to describe how grateful for and fond she was of this smart mouthed, handsome, cocky, son-of-a-bitch with the scared little boy and heart of gold inside. If only he could see in himself the hero others did. At that moment Gemini realised Nick couldn't touch her any more. He had made her feel like a massive loser but he was the loser in this scenario not her. She also realised it was time to stop kidding herself. She and Jeff belonged at Dun Scaith. The real Dun Scaith on the Isle of Sky. If Auld Nick and this motley assortment had made it back topside then who knew how many others had done the same. It was time for her to grow up and accept the warrior hunters life wasn't a passing phase; it was her destiny and it was Jeff's destiny too. Turning back towards Nick, Gemini uttered one sentence.

“ Joe Cocker, Mad dogs and Englishmen, track five, Nick. Track five, third verse and every bloody last bit of the chorus.”

Then she turned her back on him, and walked away her head held high her friends and family in tow; a new song on her internal jukebox in the form of P.I.L's 'Rise'. As an old Celtic Blessing came to mind suddenly filling her spirit.

 

“May the road rise up to meet you.  
May the wind be always at your back.  
May the sun shine warm upon your face;  
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until   
we meet again....”

Gemini smiled up at Dean as he looked down smiling back. His eyes searching every inch of her face as always and then he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. In that moment they both felt it in their gut; they would never meet again. Once the brothers flew home this time it really was good bye. Gemini stroked Dean's cheek.

“Lang may yer lum reek, Dean Winchester, wi' ither folks coal. Thank you; both of you, I'll never forget it.” Gemini smiled up at him and then they hugged and when they pulled apart. Jeff was clinging to Gemini, Dean's face was a confused picture and Ivy was shouting Gemini over. Dean watched as Gemini walked over to see what Ivy wanted.

Suddenly Dean was dragged out of his cloud of confusion by Aife's voice.

“ She said Long may your chimney smoke with other peoples coal...” Dean looked twice as baffled.

“Yeah, thanks that really helped my confusion; good times.”

“ Hows about you let me finish?..” Aife said staring down at Dean.

“Sorry.” Dean said hanging his head a little like a scolded child.

“ Scot's hae a lot of traditions and superstitions especially at Hogmanay, or as you lot call it 'New Years Eve'....” Aife said doing a perfect imitation of a Chicago accent.   
Dean nodded his head impressed and Aife winked at him causing him to start to have another weird confusing lust filled flashback about her. Dean coughed feeling slightly awkward and couldn't have been more relieved when Aife started to talk again. 

“You see as an originally Pagan country there is a lot of belief in ways of fate and luck in Scotland and a gift of coal at New Year; especially if the first person over your threshold after midnight, baring the gift, is a dark haired man. Is seen as very lucky. The sayin' has double meaning. A blessing on both yer circumstance and yer person; wishing you long life, filled with an abundance of, resources, help and love.” 

Dean made an impressed face. Then leaned in and stage whispered to Aife.

“She does realise I'm a hunter, right?” 

Aife and Dean looked at each other a moment then a wry smile broke on both their lips as Aife shrugged her shoulders and chuckled nodding in agreement at the unlikely hood that Dean was going to get through life in such a trouble free manner.

Scathach signalling to Alexander and Morna broke the moment. Morna nodded in reply and unwound a long strap of leather from around her wrist then proceeded to gag a struggling Nick with it as Alexander held his head still; then they took him off in the other direction.

“Their not gonna … k-eeek, him are they?”  
Dean asked Aife making a throat slashing gesture. Aife chuckled lightly, 

“ Don't be daft, Dean, they are just going to insure his silence and that we never clap eyes on his scrawney arse again. They'll see him alright. You see every warrior has a natural gift, Gemini is a music conduit. Alexander and Morna; are gifted in shall we say coercion and persuasion.

“Ah, kind of like a super strength version of good cop/bad cop?” Aife nodded her head smiling in agreement.

“Exactly, apparently they take efter their faither. ”

Dean had no clue what Aife had just said; so just smiled in reply. It was time to tidy up and get the hell out of dodge.

Sam had broken into one of the site sheds for something he could fuel a fire with finding some canisters of petrol he had gone back into the kirk to liberally spread it around, Ivy after a quick word with Gemini had gone over to join him and when he was done she lit small fires all around the body of the building in order to let it catch quicker. Then they strolled back outside.

“Hey Sam...” Ivy said suggestively stroking her hand across the expanse of his broad shoulders. Sam looked up at her his libido piqued.

“Do you fancy a naked roll in the nettles for old times sake?”

Sam shook his head.

“Eh no.. but I'll watch you and then bang your brains out, one last time.

Ivy, gave little shiver of excited anticipation and then her face lit with a wicked grin as she took Sam by the arm and dragged him into the cover of the woods. Her words disappearing into the dense foliage.

“ I don't care how expertly you man handle me, I want, the Cobalt and my book back when were done.”  
______________________________________

18

A Fortnight (two weeks) later

Gary from the lesser known, 'Hervis' car rental at Glasgow Airport looked on confused and a little sad as they towed away 'Bertha' his favourite tiny rental heap. He had passed many long, boring, hours in his booth over the years chuckling to himself as he had inflicted her on customers he knew would be too wide or too tall to travel in her comfortably or who just plain annoyed him. 

To say Gary had ' wee man syndrome' would be an understatement. He had been having a particularly bad bout the day Brian and Dennis Wilson showed up three weeks ago. All tall, muscled, white teeth and charm. That would have irked Gary enough but when the shorter of the two started giving Susan over at 'WH Smith', 'the eye' making her blush and bat her lashes at his patter. Gary couldnae care if he was only asking directions, it sent him over the edge.

He had fancied Susan for years but never got further than a hello and a courteous smile. Yet in swans this bam and she's putty in his hands. No, Gary decided right then and there, these pair of fannies were getting Bertha.

That sadly for Bertha was the beginning of the end because no matter what kind of inferiority complex drives you, you can't out fox a Winchester especially not a Dean Winchester. He may have on this occasion had the sunny alias of a 'Beach Boy' but he never forgets a slight. 

Gary sighed, pulling up the hood on his anorak, as the miserable heavy grey sky began to piss down on him from a great height, as he shuffled off into the terminal listening to his own inner 'woe is me' diatribe.

No, you don't cross a Dean Winchester. Especially when he has a tin of Sardines, can slash through leather with precision and years of sewing up his own and his brothers wounds has giving him a stitching technique so neat it could easily be missed by the naked eye. 

As many a supernatural being had discovered to their peril, Winchester payback is a bitch, that leaves a stench you'll never get rid of...... and so does having sardine paste piped into your upholstery.


End file.
